But a strong hand celestial
Was ever interposed,
And round about them ever
A viewless barrier closed.
Unutterably hideous,
Th' infernal brood of hell,
Howling in baffled fury,
Around them powerless fell.
In course of time kind heaven
Gave them a baby boy,
Who filled their hearts with rapture,
And thrilled them to new joy,
But death soon stole their treasure,
Then Leon made his own
The Norman nurse then summoned,
And Marguerite was alone!
Alone on that dread island,
In whose accursed soil
Her loved ones found unhallowed rest
From harrowing care and toil.
Still courage never failed her,
Though fettered to the sod
Where hideous fiends assailed her,
To try her faith in God.
Though foes came gathering round her,
Appalling to the view,
From upper as from nether worlds,
And nearer lurking drew,
Of these, grim bears were foremost,
Who boldly round her close,
But with her gun brave Marguerite
Slew three of these fierce foes.
Thus, though most gently nurtured,
This maiden rose to be
A heroine undaunted
On the lone isle of the sea,
And Leon was a hero,
Who risked fame, fortune, life,
To be the sworn defender
Of helpless maid and wife.
Two dreary years of warfare
Had passed o'er Marguerite's head,
Crowded with deeds heroic,
Since she with Leon wed,
When, far at sea some whalers
Observed a curling smoke
Rise from the haunted island,
Which fear and wonder woke.
Was it the trick of demons
To lure them to the shore,
And lead them on to ruin,
As many had been before?
They thought it was, and kept aloof,
Then vague surmises made.
That some unhappy mortal
Might need their timely aid.
So, triumphing o'er terror,
They warily drew nigh,
Descried a female figure
Waving her signals high;
Clothed in the skins of white bears,
So lovely she appeared,
That the brave-hearted sailors
Most gladly toward her steered.
Thus Marguerite was rescued,
Through a heaven-directed chance,
Restored to home and country
In her beloved France.
'Tis said the baffled demons
At her departure fled,
And never to the island
Again their legions led.
Firm in her new faith, Marguerite
Was a brave pioneer,
Of those devoted Hugenots,
To true hearts justly dear,
Who, half a century after,
Composed that sturdy flock,
Who from the good ship May Flower
Landed on Plymouth rock.