The sunny land of France with streams of noblest blood was dyed,
Nor could a monarch’s royal veins suffice the insatiate tide;
And youth and beauty knelt in vain, and mercy ceased to shine,
And Nature’s holiest ties were loosed beneath the guillotine.
Wild war and rapine, hate and blood, and terror ruled supreme,
Till all who loved its vine-clad vales had ceased of peace to dream;
But there was one whose lover’s blood wrote vengeance in her soul,
Whom zeal for France and blighted hopes had bound in fast control.
Dark “Discord’s demon,” fierce Marat, his country’s fellest foe,
Belzance’s executioner, the fount of war and woe;