"
Pet Marie's best robe was put on
And the poor mother dressed with care--
Glad that she was both young and fair--
"To meet thy father, little one"
Oft standing on the very spot
Where she had parted from Rajotte
She stood a patient watcher long,
And listened eagerly to hear
The voyageurs' returning song
Come floating to her ear
But still he came not, years went by,
Yet she must pray, and hope, and wait,
His form would some day meet her eye,
His step sound at the river gate
Oh! it was hard to hear them say,
"He comes not, and he must be dead
Cease pining all your life away,
'Twere better far that you should wed
And Antoine keeps his first love still,
And Antoine is so well to do,
You may be happy if you will
His pleading eyes ask leave to woo"
'Twas a relief to steal away,
And tell her ebon rosary,
And to the Virgin Mother pray,
Thinking that she in Heaven above,
Remembered all of earthly love,
And human sympathy,
And having suffered human pain--
Known what it was to grieve in vain--
Might bend to listen to her prayer,
And make the absent one her care
In pleading with her Son
She waited while the years went on,
And would not think that hope was gone,
Ever his steps seemed sounding near,
His voice came floating to her ear,
And longing prayer, and yearning pain
Reached out to draw him back again;
And love beyond all estimate
Strengthened her heart to hope and wait
Pet Marie grew up tall and fair,
Her girlish love, her merry ways
Kept the poor mother from despair
Through many weary nights and days.
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