For that New France which Francis hoped A source of wealth to make. For of it wondrous stories Were floating in the air, A very Paradise it seemed Of joy beyond compare. A vast, mysterious country, Studded with gems and gold, Where virgin soil and forests grand Were girt by headlands bold. A land of beauty, where 'twas said Celestial fountains played, Whose waters made the aged young, And Time's dread havoc stayed. Such were the thrilling stories Of ancient Florida. And of that favoured part of it Now known as Canada. France, prompted by ambition, Was on its conquest bent, Though Rome to Spain had given The whole vast continent. To subjugate a people In wildest freedom bred, Whose trade was armed barter, To utmost hardship wed, To potent savage nations, To teach the white man's creed; This was the hardy project That France's king decreed. Among the group of women Was Marguerite, the fair Niece of the Viceroy, Roberval, Young, lovely, debonnaire, Like gleams of summer sunshine That glorify the sea, Among the ship's companions, Her presence seemed to be. There, too, was a young noble, Who with her left his home, Content all honours to renounce, With her he loved to roam; Together had they plighted Their vows before high heaven, To the new faith together Their pledged adhesion given.