Evangeline / by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. / Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 1807-1882

Author: Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 1807-1882
Title: Evangeline / by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Publisher: New York : Alden, c1892.
Tag(s): narrative poetry, american; evangeline; tin; birket foster; village
Contributor(s): Eric Lease Morgan (Infomotions, Inc.)
Versions: original; local mirror; HTML (this file); printable; PDF
Services: find in a library; evaluate using concordance
Rights: GNU General Public License
Size: 18,423 words (really short) Grade range: 8-10 (high school) Readability score: 66 (easy)
Identifier: evangeline00long
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EVANGELINE

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW,

NFAV

JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER

1892.

A PRETTY SURPRISE.

This pretty volume has proved a delightful sur-
prise to tens of thousands of readers; we hope it
may yet find place in millions of homes.

Though sold at a price so low,, it is fairly char-
acteristic, in quality and price, of a large portion
of our publications, and is no more than a fair il-
lustration of what the cooperation of book buyers
might accomplish for nearly all books that are
worth buying; see particulars in last pages of our
catalogue.

" RICHER THAN CRCESUS."

" Now the only Croesus that I envy is he who is
reading a better book than this/' Philip Gilbert
Hatnertoirs exclamation when reading a book
which delighted him, is one that often comes to
the mind of the book-lover when reveling in the
riches revealed by our Catalogue. It presents a
great number of the choicest books of the world,,
at the lowest prices ever known. Our new Cata-
logue, issued twice a month, 128 pages in size, is
sent post-paid for a 2-cent stamp; our books are not
sold by dealers; order direct from us. Any book
published supplied on the most favorable terms to
be had any where. Address, JOHN B. ALDEN,
Publisher, 57 Eose St., New York.

PROPERTY OF THB

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

EVANGELINE.
r A I;T TH i: i 1 1; ST.

1 AGE

I DESIGNED BT BIRB ir.n ...................... 11

"I'll" nriri'1'l: illLT (lilies .'111 1 1 III'' 111 Illll M-ICS.

]: ii h-.| with ni"-~. .mil in ;4'. in i lent- 'j 1 1 -i -M."

ILLUSTRATION II. i D BY Bra in; .................... i .'

\' tbO86 | 'I'M - ml l:u in-, ali^ tlic I'.irim i - !'ni-e\ ei de|iaried.''

1 1. i.i '-I i; A i ins III. |):->i i ;NI:II i;v |'.I];KI:T !'<'- 1 1:1; ................... !'!

Sulr m nly il'iw n ill in the 1 1 i !; -i i priest, .-nnl the rhililn-u

I'.iii-cil in lln it- play I" ki-s tin- hand he- extend* d tn hit-- lln m.

1> i.rsTKATioN IV. I>I:-S|<;NKD i!Y JAM: I :. I'.II.MI \.M ................... V>

' Hi nut-van I M Trudy -In- \\.ilknl illi (;d\ ln-in-ilu-1 1. .11 U|MIII In i . '

li.i.i ~n;A'i P i.v V. I |I:M'.NI:I> i:v IIntKKr l-'n^

l-'irnily luiildril \\ illi rall.-r- >! Oak, HM h'.ii-i- n!' llii- I'aniH r
.1 ..:i tin- side nt" a hill i ...... liiaiiiliii^- I

li.l.r>ri{ \ i I ' >N VI. I>I:-|(;NI.I. i:v KH.-KI: r POST] i;

I I'll II -r lli.U ||. < II I I III- -III I ii- 1,1' I In- Illll. \\ "a* till- well \\ i| 1 1 \\- IT1OS L- |-u II

I'.u tned uith inm, anil nt-ai- il a Inm^l: 1'nr tin- li"i

Ii.i.rsri; \THIN VII. DESIGNED BY JAM: K. HKNIIAM .................. 1'J

iLLfsi i; M I.I.N \'II1. I >I..-K;M:U \\\ JAM I-'.. I Ii: \HA.M ................. i!0

i ather r.-iii-i.-n.

J'l-ir-t ami I" ila^-i.irnc Imtli ill tin- villairi-. had lanu'ht lln-ni thru I. Ui i-
( lilt M|' i hi- -' II -ami- I ..... k. \s itli the hy in us i .( I In- chun-li and tin
plain BOI

Ii.i.rsi KATKiN IX. IT- < |'.IHKI:T

' Thi-n- at tin- <ii I- -i -tin- v -t. ii i. with wondering eyes to behold him

Take ill his li-alln-rn lap tin- In ml' nl Hi.- h-.r-i- a- a |.la.\ thiinr.' 1

IN X. I >I:--II:M:!> r.v I'.IUKCT I-'I-STKI: .................... .'/

" ( ift ill tin- harns thc-\ <-liiiiI-il t'i the |iii|i!jli.||s ne-t- "f tin lal'l. i

.\ XI I H.-ii.M.h in I'.I;;M:T l-'i i^n:i; ................... ','1

u Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangellne'a beautiful heifer,

1'ioinl ill iii i- Mn.\\ v\ hit- huh-. : lM d tin, i -il.lmii lh.il wa\i d

6 LIST OF ILL VSTRA TIONS.

PAGE.

ILLUSTRATION XII. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 26

" Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes,
Laden with briny hay, that Jilled the air with its odor."

ILLUSTRATION XIII. DESIGNED BY JOHN GILBERT 27

" ' Not so thinketh the folk in the village,' said warmly, the blacksmith,
Shaking his head, as in doubt."

ILLUSTRATION XIV. DESIGNED BY JOHN GILBERT 31

" More than a hundred
Children's children rode o,. his knee, and heard his great watch tick."

ILLUSTRATION XV. DESIGNED BY JOHN GILBERT 34

"In friendly contention the old men
Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre."

ILLUSTRATION XVI. DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 36

" Many a farewell word and sweet good night on the door-step
Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness."

ILLUSTRATION XVII. DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 38

" For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father;
Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and gladness
Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it."

ILLUSTRATION XVIII. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 39

" Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighboring

hamlets,
Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants."

ILLUSTRATION XIX. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 4C

" Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows."

ILLUSTRATION XX. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 41

" Without, in the churchyard,
Waited the wo7nen. They stood by the graves, and hung on the

head-stones
Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest."

ILLUSTRATION XXI. DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 45

" Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village,
Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women."

ILLUSTRATION XXII. DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 47

" Marching in gloomy procession
Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers."

ILLUSTRATION XXIII. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 50

" Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farmyard-
Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid."

ILLUSTRATION XXIV. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 51

*' Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the blood-red
Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon
Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and meadow."

*/' OP ILLUSTRATIONS. 7

PAGE

N xxv. DESIGNED BY BIB IK.U ................. :>i

" lla\ in^ I l.i- glare ! lli' 1 liuniini; \ illa^e NT I'u i ii r; 1 1 l<irrlii-,
r.ul illi.. ' it i" U or book, Ih. > l.m i. d I \ i . ia n<l I

lu.rsi KA i I...N XX V I. I D r-\ Hi KM i Fo MI: ................ 55

Tin -11 iv. "in in. IP .1 i .in -i- IIH U i- 1 1. ' n. 'i ' i 'I i -JI.I '.i i U nitf;

A 1 1. 1 w Illi tin- rlil) nl thai lldf tin- >lilp.~ .--.ill. d nut <>l thr li.irl.nr.' 1

! \ I;T 'i 1 II. i: 8E< ON i>.
X \ \'ii DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAN

i ..n_- ani..n-_r i hi-iii u i iii.-iiili-n who waited and wondered,

I...U l\ an I 1 111 -i k in >| i.i -i I. :in. I ii.itn-nt!\ -nil' i niir all tiling.-.."

Ii.i.rsi KATION XX\'III. IM:.-|I;M:H i;v HIIIMIT I'.I.-TKK .............. 00

" lulu tin 1 (- r " : 'l r| i -1 1 1 .mi <>!' 111'' lirci;nl ami > ill Mi--i--i|.|ii,

1 1 ril a rn i n I in nis I MM I, 1 lial .i^ r.. \M-I| l>y Ai a.lian In .a I iin-n. 1 '

Il.li NXXIX. I li I!V HlUKC.1' l'n>TKK ................ lil

1 N..W tlu-i.iiyli rushing chutes, among green i>iaml-;, where plame-like

( 'i.t I n n 1 1 1-.--. ; i' NI .1 I lirir .sli.-u|..u \ CreSttJ, I ln-\ ,-ui-|.t \Mtli tin- i-urn-nt."

Ii.i.rsi-KArii>\ XXX. I)I:-K.M:D r.v MIKM.'I r'nvncit ................. ti:i

" l.i.\rly tlii- n ii. i .ill i-ht \\asjt.-, il ^iam-i-il ami n\> am. il <.n (In- \iatcr.' 1

XXXL DESI- . HIUKI-.T FOSTKIJ ................ 65

t in lii-aut\ . tin- |,,tu-<

I.i Hi -. I iit-r _" .lili-ii I-M > w u above the heads of the boatmeii."

iLJ.rsTHATI'iN XXXII. I)KSI(iNKI) HV I'.lltKKT FoSTIMt ............... 07

ly tlirir I i ....... vi I. ami -ral 1 . i .'it a I ii nit i.n I In- vri .-< li-wai il,

Tiivil with their midnight toil, the i-ai-\

iLLrsTKATIi'N XXXIII. -I)KSICM:i i I'.V I ilRKKT Ft >STKU ............. O'.l

" (fearer, and -\ i-r m-an-r, aimnivr tin- iiuiiil>i-r)i--i islands,
]>art-d a ll^'lit, -w ill In ..at. thai -|n-<l aav i.'rr (h.- \vatt-r."

t.v \XXIV. DESIGNED BY BIBKKT FOSTKB .............. 71

" Til.- lii.i i-i- it -i -If \\a~ c.f t imln-1-s
Hi-w n lli. in tin- c-ypi-i- I n .-, and can lull.V lilti-d

.N XXXV. I>I:-H.M.D nv I'.IKKKI' KUSTKII ................ ?'J

" Suddenly oat of the gr^ass the long white horna of the cattle

K..-. liki- ll.ik. - ..I II..IIM i.n (In- ad Vi T-C cun i-n' ,."

li.i.r>i KAI II-N XXX\"I. II-:SH;M;I) i:v .IASK E. HI.MIAM .............. j

" ' I-nn^r 1 1 vi- Mi. -ha i- 1.' lli.-\ cried, ' i 'U I' lira\ 6 A.- idian iiiin-1 ivl !'

A- i ii. > ii. .1 him ali.it In triumphal procession."

lU.l SMiAl 'li.N XXXN'II. |i|:>KiM I) HV UlUKKl l''i '-TEK ..............

" With I. d i_nndi->. and r-c iliijia Ili. .H-,

Galirirl left tin- villaf,'.-, and look tin- mad n| tin- plain-

>s XXXVIII IM>II.M.II iiv IliKKr.T IM>STI:K ............ 81

" Into this \v i 'in! i rful land, at the b&ae of the Oxark Mmintains.
Utilirii-1 far had i-nt. r. d, \\ it'i hiinti -i> and trappi-i-. U-liind hinu"

8 LIST OF ILL USTRA TI011&

FA-GE.

ILLUSTRATION XXXLX. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 85

" Under a towering 1 oak, that stood in the midst of the village,
Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children."

ILLUSTRATION XL. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 90

" In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters,
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle,
Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded."

ILLUSTRATION XLL DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 91

" Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated,
Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city,
High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper."

ILLUSTRATION XLIL DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 93

" Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the suburbs
Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market,
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchings."

ILLUSTRATION XLIII. DESIGNED BY JANE E. BENHAM 95

" Through the hush that succeeded

Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like,
' Gabriel ! O my beloved! ' and died away into silence."

ILLUSTRATION XLIV. DESIGNED BY BIRKET FOSTER 97

" Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping,
Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard,
In the heart of the city."

^LUSTRATION XLV. DESIGNED BY BlRKET FOSTER 98

" Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtlei of homespun,
And by the evening tire repeat Evangeline's story."

EVANGELINE.

PART THE FIRST,

'I'm- i- tlie fore-t primeval. The ?

irnirmurin-: pines and the
1-5' arded with moss, and in garments

green, indistinct in the twilight.
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices

sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards

that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from it- rocky caverns, the

deep-Voiced lie'l ^ll bol'i Ilif ocean

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate
answers the wail of the fon-t.

. - i

12 EVANGELINE.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that

beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the

voice of the huntsman ?
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian

farmers

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the wood-
lands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of

heaven ?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever

departed 1
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of

October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far

o'er the ocean.
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of

Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is

patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's

devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the

forest ;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

1 Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever deported."

Kl'AAt.'ELUVK

ilv 1 1<>\\ ii tin- -I ice I < -a tnr l in- parish prii-st . ami tin- i-h jlihvit
I i.-M-il in ilu-ir play to kiss the hand lit- I'Xtemlril l<> lilo.s ilimi.' 1

l\ 'I' in-: Acadian land, on the shores of tin- Hiisin ol

Minas,

Distant, secluded, still, tin- little village of (Jrand Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the

eastward,
(Jiving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without

number.

Dikes, that the hands of the fanners Lad raised with lahor

incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the

Mood .rates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the

meadows.
\\Vst and south there were fields of flax, and orchard^

and cornfields
Spreading alar and un fenced o'er the plain: and away to

the northward
Hlomidon ro-r. and the forests old, and aloft on the

mountains

St-a-foirs pitched their tent.-, and mi.-t-- from the miirhty

Atlantic

Looked on the ha]>py valley, hut in-Vr from their station

descended.
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian

village.

14 EVANGELINE.

Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and

of chestnut,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of

the Henries.

Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and
gables projecting

Over the basement below protected and shaded the door-
way.

There ic the tranquil evenings of summer, when bright iv
the sunset

Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the
chimneys,

Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in
kittles

Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the
golden

Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles \vithir
doors

Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the
songs of the maidens.

Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the
children

Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless
them.

Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons
and maidens,

Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate wel-
come.

Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely
the sun sank

Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the
belfry

Softly the Angelas sounded, and over the roofs of the
village

Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense as-
cending,

Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and con-
tentment.

Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers

Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they
free from

Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of
republics.

BVANQELINE. r.

Neither locks had they to their donr-, nor bar- \- , their

w indou 3;
J'.u? iheir dwellings -were open a- da\ ami tin- heart- of ll >

ownei

Then- tin- richest was poor, ami the pocn-e-t lived in abund-
ance.

Some\\ hat apart from the village, End nearer the Bu.-in of

Minas,

Hem-dirt Hflli-l'iiiitaiiH', tin- wi-altliii-^t fariMi-r ol (Jraiid I'n',
j)\vclt on lii- goodly acres; and with him, directing his
hoasebold,

ii'iith- l-'van^cliiif livi-d, liis child, and tin- \<r't(\f of thw

village.

Stahvorth and stately in 1'onii \\ as tin- man of seventy
\vintc!

Hearty and lialc was lie, an oak that i- covered witli snow-
Make- ,

Whin- a^ the snow were hi- lock-, and his cheeks a- hrown
B tlie oak-leave-.

Fair \va- she to lieliold, that maiden of seventeen -ummers.

Hla<-k were licr (-ye> as the 1 terry that Arrows on the. thorn
1>V tlie \vav-si<le,

Blark, yet how softly they gleamed lieneath the brown

Shade of her t|e--e.S !

Sweet was her l.reath a- the l.reuth of kine that feed in tbe

meadows.

When in the harvest heat she bore to the reaper^ at noon-
tide

Klaxons of home brewed ale, ah ! fair in sooth was the

maiden.

I-'airer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from

its turret
Sprinkled with holy sounds the air. as the priest with hi-

hyssop
Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon

them,
Down the loiiL r ^treet --he pa--e,l, with her chaplet of bead-

and lier mi--al,
\VeariiiLr her Norman caji, and her kirtleof blue. aii<l tbo

ear-lie
Brought in the olden time from France, and since, us an

lieirlooin,

EVANOELINE.

Handed down from mother to child, through long gener-
ations.

But a celestial brightness a more ethereal beauty
Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after con

fession,
Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction

upon her.

"Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her."

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of ex

quisite music.

Fimiiy ouilded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer
Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea ; and a

shady

EVANQELINE,

Svruniore irivw l>y the donr, \vith a \vondl.im- wreathing

around it.
Rudely carved \vas the jntrcli. with scats liciieath; and a

footpath

L *

' ^,'i. -"

M&&

- ; Vf '--'

f ' -M & .

r" 1 "

" Kir inly Mniiiicii it IP r.-ittctv of oak, the bouse of the fturmer
i on tin- M.I.' of a lull commaDding the sea. '

Led through an ordiard wide, and disappeared in the

meadow.
Under the sycamore-tree wen- hives <.vrrlmii- i.\- a p<-nt

house,
Su'-h a< the traveler sees in regions remote i>\- the road

side,

Built o'er a l>o\ for the poor, or the Mi-wrd imairent Marv.
Further down, on tin- slope nf the hill, \\-as the well \\ith

its nio-s o-p, ,\vii
Bucket, fust. MI. -.1 \\ith iron, and n -ar it a tr.ui-h |,,i- |

EVANGELINE.

Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the

barns and the farm-yard.
There stood the broad- wheeled wains and the antique plows

and the harrows ;
There were the folds for the sheep ; and there, in his

feathered seraglio,
Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the

selfsame
Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter.

" Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown
Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses."

Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village.
In each one

Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a stair-
case,

Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn-loft.

There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent
inmates

Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant
breezes

JSumberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mu-
tation.

EVANQEL1NE.

Tims :it peace \viih tiod and tin- world, the farmer of

( irand I 're-
Lived nn his sunny farm, and Kvaii^elmr governed his

household.

'.. I

M..I' v :i vmilli, :i In- knelt in tin- i-li u i-di .-mil i ( ii -i ifil 1 1 is 1 1

KiXl'll llK '>' - II |K, 1 1 lirr .'I- III,- ^.illll t.l' Ills lll'f|M .-! i |i \ . ,t ii 'I I . "

Many a youth, a^ In- kin-It in the church and opened His

missal.

Fixed hN eyes upon her, as the saint of his deejiot de-
votion ;

Happy \\a-~ lie who niiuht foiii-h her hand or the hem of
her garment !

Many a suitor came to her duo r, l>y the darkness befriended,

.\ndas he knoi-ked and waited to hear the sound of her

footsteps,

20 . EVANGELINE.

Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker

of iron ;

Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Sainf of the village,
Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he

whispered

Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music.
But, among all who came, young Gabriel only was welcome;

i- i.: i '.

^A^Ki^SS^-S^f-.^Si^f'S^^^-

" Father Felicien,

Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters
Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the
plain song."

Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith,
Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all

men ;

For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations,
Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the

people.

EVANOEL1NE.

l'>a-il \\.-i- r.eitedici's friend. Their children from earliest

child I n mil
drew ii|> tii^rt In-r as brother :uid s'Mer; ;ind Father !

lician,

Priest and peda^-o^ur both ill tin- village, had taught tin-in

t he'll' letters

Out nl tlu- M-lt>aiiii- hook, \\ith the hviniis n!' t In- chu rdi

and tin- plain ^ui.ir.
I'.nt \\henthe h\iiin was sun^, and the daily h-vsmi mm

pleted,

Svviltlv thev hurried auav in the I'or^e of IJa^il the Murk-

smith.

--'-*-- '

" l'h I'M- ;it tin- ill ii T I In -y stiii ii I, u illi winiili-rintr -yi-s (<i In -In. M him

Taki- ill llis It-alliri-n lap t In- hi mf ul' t In- Inn -i- .is a |,|a\ tiling."

Tht-ri' at the door they stood, with wondering eyes, to In-
hold him

Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a play-
thing,

NailiniT the shoe in its place ; while m-ar him the tire of
the cart-wheel

Lay like a liery snake, coiled round iu a circle of cinder-.

Oft 011 autumnal eve-, when without in the i:atheniiu r dark-
lie

Bursting with li.^ht - m-il tin- smithy, through t-very
cranny and crevice,

Warm by tlie forge within they watched the laboring

bellows,
And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the

ashes,
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the

chapel.

Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle,
Down the hill-side bounding, they glided away o'er the

meadow.
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the

rafters,

{ vis -->r^^pr

IMli

, ,m

" Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters."

Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the

swallow
Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its

fledglings ;
Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the

swallow !
Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were

children.
He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the

morning,
Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought

into action.
She was a -woman now, with the heart and hopes of a

woman.

'' Sunshine of Saint I .ulalie " was she Called; I'm- that \\;i-

till' Mlll.-dlille

Which, as the lamier- I iflicvrd , wmiltl Inail their orchards

\\ it 1 1 a|>|li ~.
She, tun, \\.uilil lirin^ t< her hii-liantl's IHHIM- di-li^lit and

abundance,

1'Mlini:- it full *V luvr and the ruddy fa-es <>i' children

EVANGELINE.

" Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer.
Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from her
collar."

II,

Now liad the season returned, when the nights grow colder

and longer,

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters.
Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the

ice-bound,

Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands.
Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of

September
Wrestled the trees of the forests, as Jacob of old with the

angel.

All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement.
Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their

honey

Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted
Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the

foxes.
Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that

beautiful season,

Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All-
Saints!
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and

the landscape

Lay as it' new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of

the ocean

tiVANQELINE. 2r>

Wa- I'm- a moment coii-oh-d. All sounds were in harmony

blended.

\Vici-s of children at play, tin- crowing of cocks in the

farm-yards,

Whir of wind's in tin- drowsy air, and tin- cooing "f
pigeons,

All were subdued and low as the murmur.- of love, and the
great -nil

Looked with thec\e ( ,f love through the golden vapors
around him;

While arrayed in its robes of rus.-et and scarlet and
yellow.

Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of
the forest

Flushed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with man-
tles and jewels.

Now recommenced the reign of rest and a flection and still-
ness.

I>ay with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight
descending

Brought liack the evening star to the sky, and the herds to
the homestead.

Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on

each other,
And \\ith their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of

evening.

Koremo-t, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer,
P:-oiid of her snow-\\hite hide, and the ribbon that waved

from her collar,

(,)iiietlv paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection.
Then came the shepherd hack with his bleating Hocks from

the sea side,
When- was their favorite pasture. Behind them tollowed

the watch dog.
Patient, full of importance, and irrand in the pride o! his

instinct.

Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly
Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers ;
l.egent of flocks \\a- he when tin- shepherd slept; their

protector,

When from the foiv-t at night, through the starry silence,
the wolves howled.

26 EVANGELINK

Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the
marshes,

Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor.

Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and
their fetlocks,

While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous
saddles,

Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of
crimson,

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blos-
soms.

" Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes,
Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor."

Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their
udders

Unto the jnilkmaid's hand ; whilst loud and in regular
cadence

Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended.

Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the
farm-yard,

Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into stillness ;

Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn-
doors,

Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent.

/:[ .\.\U1-LL\K. 27

Ill-doors, \v;inn by the wide mouthed tin- place, idly tliO

farmer

S:it ill liis did >\v chair; and u at died how the (lames and tin-

smoke- wreaths

Struggled together like foes in a burning city, Pn-hind liiin,
Nodding and mocking along the wall, with ges'.ures fan-

tastic,
Parted his own huge, shadow, and vanished away into

darkness.
Faci-s, clumsily carved in oak, on the back ot his arm-

chair
Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on

the dresM-r
Caught and retlected tlie ilanie, as shields of armies tho

sunshine.
Fnurnients of >"\\g the <ild man san^, and carols of Christ-

inas,

Such a- at home, in the olden time, his fathers hefore him
fcsaii^ in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian.

vineyards.

Uo>e at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated,
Spinning Ihi^ 1'or thu loom, that stood in the corner behind

her.
Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent

shuttle,
While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone

of a bagpipe,
Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments

together.

As in a church, when tho chant of the choir at intervals

ceases,
Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at

the altar,

So. in each paii-M- of the son^, with measured motion th.-
k clicked.

Thus a^ they sat, there were foot.-teps heard, and, suddenly

lifted,
Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back <m its

Bent-diet knew by the hobnailed shoes it was Basil the

blacksmith,
And by her beating heart Evungeline knew who was with

him,

28 EVANGELINE.

'' Welcome ! " the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps

paused on tlie threshold,
" Welcome, Basil, my friend ! Come, take thy place on the

settle
Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without

thee ;
Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of

tobacco ;
Never so much thyself art thou as when through the

curling
Smoke of the pipe or the forge thy friendly and jovial face

gleams
Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of

the marshes."
Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the

blacksmith,

Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fireside
"Benedict Bellefontaine, thou has ever thy jest and thy

ballad !
Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are filled

with

Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them.
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a

horseshoe."
Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought

him,
And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly

continued
"Four days now are passed since the English ships at

their anchors
Ride in the Gaspereaus mouth, with their cannon pointed

against us.

What their design may be is unknown ; but all are com-
manded
On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's

mandate
Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas ! in the mean

time

Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people.''
Then made answer the farmer : " Perhaps some friendlier

purpose
Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests in

England^
By the untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted,

EVANQRLINS, '.

And froiu our bur-tin^ barns they would teed their rattle
and children."

" Not SO thinketL the folk in the village," .-aid, warmly,
Ilie blacksmith.

Shaking his head, as in doubt ; then, heaving a -i^'i, he
continued -

11 l.,oui>hurir is not forgotten, nor I lea". Sejoiir, nor 1'mt
Royal.

Man\ already have 'led to the tore.-t, and lurk on its out-
skirt-.

,~f

'Not sothinkPth thP folk In thp

Sti:ikili(_' lii> li.'ii.l. :> ill di.ulil."

wnrnily, tho l.l.ncksinilh,

NN'aitinir with anxious |ieai't< tin- diil;i..us fate of to-inerrnw.
A i ins liave been taken from us. ami warlike weapons of all

kinds ;
Nothing is left l>ut the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe

of the mower."

Then with a plea-ant smile made answer the jovial fanner
<afei- ai-e \ve unarmed, in the midst of our (locks and our

cornfields,
Safer within the-e peaceful dike-, l.e-ie^ed by the ocean.

30 EVANGELINE.

Than were our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's

cannon.
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of

sorrow
Fall on this house and hearth ; for this is the night of the

contract.
Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the

village
Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe

round about them,
Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a

twelvemonth.

Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and ink-
horn.
Shall we not then be g'ad, and rejoice in the joy of our

children T
As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her

lover's,
Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had

spoken,
And as they died on his lips the worthy notary entered.

-:\ .

*~ '

Chil' iiilr-n

thnii :i liiiinlivd
iiis kin'c. :iinl lif.-inl his great watcli tick."

III.

I>KNT like a laboring <ar. that toils in the scr/ of the i>o-aii,
Udit, luit not lii-iikcii, liy au'f \\astli- form of tin- notary

puMir ;
Shocks of yellow hair, likr tin- >ilkni iloss of the mai/r,

hong
Ov.-r hi> -hoiildci> ; his fordicad \\ as liiirh : ami glasses

with horn l\v^

Sat a-tr'ulfon lii^ QO86, \vith:i look of wixlom supernal.
FatluM- of twenty chililren \\ as he, and more than :i

hundred
Children's children rode on his knee, ami heard his j^reat

watch tick.
Four loiii: years in the time-, of the \var had he languished

: laptive.

32 EVANGELINE.

Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of tlie

English.

Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion,
Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple and

childlike.

He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children ;
For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest,
And of the goblin that came in the night to water the

horses,
And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child >vho un-

christened
Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of

children ;

And how on Christinas eve the oxen talked in the stable,
And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a

nutshell,
And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and

horseshoes,

With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village.
Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the black-
smith,
Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his

right hand,
" Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, " thou hast heard the talk

ii; the village,
And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and

their errand."
Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary

public
" Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the

wisei ;
And what tLeir errand may be I know not better than

others

Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil intention
Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why then

molest us?"
"God's name!" shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible

blacksmith ;
"Must we in all things look for the how, and the why,

and the wherefore ?
Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the

strongest !")
But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary

public

EVANGELJNJS.

" Man is unjust, but (iid is just ; am! finally justice
Triumphs ; and well I remember a .stnr\ , thai often con-
soled inc.
\\henas a captive I lay in tin- old French fort at I'orl

Royal."

This \\as tin- old man's favorite talc, and In- Invrd to \<-

peat it
When his neighbors complained that any injustice \ S;| -,

done t hclll.

"Once in an ancient city, \vh"-,. name I no longer n-iin-iiL

ber,

liaised alnt't 0:1 a column, a bra/m siatur <>f .Iiistir,-

Stood in tin- pulilic Mjnarc. upholding tin- scales in its left
hand.

And in its rirlit a sword, as an emMrm that jn.stici- pre-
sided

Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the

people.

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the
balance,

Having no Tear of the sword that Hushed in the sunshine
above them.

But in the course of lime the laws ><[' the land were cor-
rupted;

Miirht took the place uf riirht, and the weak were oppressed,
and the mighty

liuled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's

palace

That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere lonu' a BUS

picion

Fell on an orphan irirl .vho lived as maid in the household.
She. after form of trial condemned to die on the scafTold,
Patiently met her doom at the font nf the statue of .Justice.
A- to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended,
Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the holts of the

thunder
Smote the statue of bron/e, and hurled in wrath from its

left hand
Down on the pavement below the clatterim: scales of the

balance,

And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie.
Into whose clay built walls the necklace of pearls was in-

\\nVen."

EVANGELINE,

Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the

blacksmith
Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no

language;
All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as

the vapors
Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the

winter.

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table,
Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-
brewed

j|v ' pi i ' -

"'^^ : ^"'" ^~

"In friendly contention the old men
Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre."

Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the vil-
lage of Grand-Pre;

While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and ink-
horn,

Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the
parties,

Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in
Battle.

Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were com-
pleted,

Ami t In- i; real seal of tin- lavs wa- -it like a sun on the

margin.

Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the

table

Three times the old man's fee in solid piece- of silver;
And the notary rising, and ble ing the bride and the bride

groom,

Lilted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare.
Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and

departed,

While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside,

Till Kvangeline brought the draught-board out of its
corner.

Soon wa- the game begun. In friendly contention the old
men

Laughed a' each lucky hit, or unsuccessful mamnivre,

Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made
in the king-row.

Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's em-
brasure,

Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon
rise

< ver the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows.

Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
V Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of t he angels.

Thus pa-sed the evening away. Anon the bell from the
belfry

Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straight-
way

Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in tin
household.

Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door-
step

Lingered long in Hvangeliue's. heart, and filled it with
gladness.

Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the

heath-stone,

And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer.
Soon with a soundless step the foot of Kvaiigeline followed.
I'p the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkm-s,
Lighted less by the lump than the shining face of the

maiden.

EVANGELINE.

Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of

her chamber.
Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and

its clothes-press
Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully

folded
Linen and woolen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven

" Many a farewell word and sweet good night on the door-step
Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and tilled it with gladness."

This was the precious dower she would bring to her hus-

band in marriage,
Better than Hocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a

housewife.
Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant

moonlight

EVANOELINB. 87

Streamed through tin- \vinl"\\ s, ami lighted tin- room, till

t In- heart i'|' t lie iiiaiilcii
Suelled ami olieved its power, like tlir tremulous tides n!'

lln- ocean.
All ! she was tail', exceeding fair to behold, a- she --t

with

Naked -imu u hite Irrt mi tin- -rleai n i Hi;'

Little she dl'eailied that l>eln\v, aiinill-- the tl'e.-> ..!' the

orchard,
\V:iitfd her lover and watched lor the -learn ol her lamp

and her shadow.

et \\vre her thon-'hts of him, and at times a feeling oi'
sadness

Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the

moonlighl
l-'litted across the tloor and darkened the room for a

moment.
And a-- -he -a/.ed from the \\ indo\\ she saw serenely the

moon ]ia^.
l-'orth from the 1'olds of a cloud, and one star follow her

As out of Abraham's tc-nt vounir Ishmael wandered with
llagur :

EV 'ANGELINA

" For Evangeline stood among' the guests ot her father;
Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and gladness
Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it."

IV.

PLEASANTLY rose next morn the sun on the village of
Grand-Pre.

Pleasantly gleamed in tlie soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas,

Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were rid-
ing at anchor.

Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor

Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the
morning.

Now from the country around, from the farms and the
neighboring hamlets,

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants.

Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young
folk

Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous
meadows.

BVAXtiEUXK.

:,'.-

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in

t lie o-|-eell>\\ a I'd ,

QrOUp after gTOUp ap|ieared, and joined, or passed on t lie
highway .

Loni; ere noon, in the villa^"' all sounds of labor were
silenced.

Thronged were the streets with people ; and noisy irnmps
at the house-door--

JSat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossipped to-
gether,

. v .

. . .

R 3

- \.>w fn>in (lie country around, from llir I'arnis and the neiprhhorinn

hamlets,
<';niic in their hoii.i i\ iir. gaea the blithe Acadian peasants."

Kvery house was an inn, where all were welcomed and
feasted ;

For with this simple people, who lived liked brothers to-
gether,

All thinirs were held in (.-0111111011. and what one had was
another's.

Vet under Benedict's root' hospitality seemed more abun-
dant :

For Kvan.irelim- stood aiiioiiir the -rue^ts of her father ;

Bright \va- her face with smiles, and words of welcome
and irladii'

Fell from her beautiful lips, und blessed the cup as she
gave it.

40 EVANGELINK.

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard,
Bending with golden fruit, was spread the feast of be

trothal.
There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the

notary seated ;

There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith.
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the

beehives,
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts

and of waistcoats.

" Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows."

Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his

snow-white
Hair, as it waved in the wind ; and the jolly face of the

fiddler
Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from

the embers.

(iuyly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle,
Tousles Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de Dun -

kerque,

And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the di///ying dances
Under the orchard -trees and down the path to the meadows,

SVANQEL1NE

<>lk folk ami yoiin- t.. -ether, ami children min^li'

them.

KaireM (if all tin- maids was I'lvani^'Iine, Benedict's

daughter !
.Noblest of all the youths \va- ' ial irirl , <. >\\ of the black

Mill til !

S<> ])iis>,, M l tin- niornin.i:- away. And lo ! with a summons

sonorous

Sounded tin- hell from its tower, and over the meadows a

drum heat.
Thronged ere lon^- wji- the cliurdi with men. \\"ithout,

in the churcliyard.

" \ViiliD\it. in tlir I'lnii-rliyard,

tin 1 wiuiH-n. Tlify stuud \i\ tin- ^i:i\ !>, :nnl Inintr on the
lii-ail ^lulu's

Qarlands of autumn-lea vee and evergreens fresti I'mm Hi,' foreetB."

\\'aited the women. They stood hy the .irraves. ami

on the head stmies
< iarlands of autumn leaves aiul evergreens I're^li I'rom the

fori

Tlien came the ini a rd I'l'om the -hip-, and march in if proud ly

amon-;- them
Kntei-ed the sari-ed jiortal. \\'ith loud and di> <mant

clangor
Iv-hoed the sound of their brazen di-ums from ceiliiiir and

ca-ement
l-'choed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal,

4A M V ANGELINA.

Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited <\e will of the

v* dijrs.
Then uprose mcir uutumanaer, and spaKe rroui c/ie steps or

the altar,

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal com-
mission.
" You are convened this day," he said, " by his Majesty's

orders.

Clement and kind has he been; but how you have an-
swered his kindness,
Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my

temper
Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be

grievous.
Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our

monarch;
Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of

all kinds
Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from

this province
Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell

there

Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people!
Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's

pleasure!"

As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer,
Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the

hailstones
Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his

windows,
Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from

the house- roofs,
Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their in-

closures;
So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the

speaker.
Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then

rose

Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger,
And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the

doorway.

Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce impre-
cations

UVANQBLINB. i:;

through the house <>f prayer; ami high o'er tin- heads

of the others

1,'o-e. \\ith his arms uplifted, t lie figure of I'.a^il the black

smith,

As. on a stormy sea. a --par is to-->ed by the billo\\v.
Flushed was his face ami distorted with pa-sion; and

wildly he -.honted
11 I>o\vn with the tyrants of Fngland' we never have

sworn them allegiance!
Death to the-,, foreign soldiers, who sei/e on our homes

and oin- harvests!"

More lie- fain would have said, but the merciless hand of

a soldier
Smote him upon the mouth, and drained him down to the

pavement.

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention,
Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician
Filtered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the

altar.
liaising 1 his rove-rend hand, with a gesture he awed into

silence

All that clamorous throng; and thus lie spake to his

people;
Deep were hi-, tones and solemn; in accents measured and

mournful
Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the cluck

strikes.

" What is this that ye do, my children'.' what madness

lias seized you'.'
Forty years of my life have I labored among yon, and

taught you,

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!
Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and

privations'.'
Have you so > i forgotten all Lessons of love and for

giveliess'.'
This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you

profane it
Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with

hatre.l?

Lo ! where the crucified Christ from his cross is ga/ing
upon you '.

** SVANGELINE.

See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy com-
passion !

Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, ' O Father,
forgive them !'

Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked as-
sail us,

Let us repeat it now, and say, ' Father, forgive them!' '

Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of
his people

Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate
outbreak ;

And they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, for-
give them !"

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from

the altar.
Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people

responded,
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts ; and the Ave

Maria
Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with

devotion translated,
Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to

heaven.

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and

on all sides
Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and

children.
Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right

hand

Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, de-
scending,
Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and

roofed each
Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its

windows.
Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the

table ;
There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with

wild flowers ;
There stood t.hr tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought

from the dairy ;

EVANOELJNB.

Ami at tin- head "f tin- hoard tin- ^reat armchair of tin-
farmer.
Thus did K\ aiiLivline \\ait at her father's door, a^ the

sunset
Tlnvu the long shadows of trees o'er tin- broad ambrosial

meadow 8.
All ' "ii her -pirit within a deeper shadow had fallen.

I ' !'/

* , ' T \

11 Tlicti. .-ill fruvvtriil of sfll'. >hc \vn ii d, !((! into thr \ il
( 'hi-.'i mi.' Hli looks and words tin- di-run^i.l.iii' In 1 1 1 - ..I' thi- women."

And fniiii the fields of lier soul a f ra^rauft^ celestial as-

(elided-
Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and

jiatiein-e '

Then, all -ftn-^ef fill of ^el f . sin- wandered into the village
\'heerinir with lo<ks and words tlr- disconsolate hearts of

the women,

46 EVANGELINE.

As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they de-
parted,

Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their

children.
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering

vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending

from Sinai.
Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded.

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evaugeline

lingered.
All was silent within ; and in vain at the door and the

windows
Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by

emotion,
" Gabriel i " cried she aloud with tremulous voice ; but no

answer
Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave

of the living
Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her

father.
Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood th* 1

supper nntasted,

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phan-
toms of terror.
Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her

chamber.

In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall
Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the

window.
Keenly the lightning flashed , and the voice of the echoing

thunder
Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world

he created !
Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice

of heaven ;

Soothed was her troubled sou), and she peacefully slum-
bered till morning.

" Marching in jrloomy procession
Followed the l3npr-inij>ris<.n. -<l, hut path-nt, Acadian farmers."

Fot'H tiint's tlie sun had risen air! set; and now on the fifth

day
Cheerily called the cock to the .sleeping maids of the farm-

house.

Sunn o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful pro-
fession.
Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian

women,
Privini: in ponderous wains their household goods to the

sea-shore,
Pausing and looking back to gavio once more on their

dwellings,

48 E VANGMLINE.

Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the

woodland.
Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the

oxen,
While in their little hands they clasped some fragments of

playthings.

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried ; and there

on the sea-beach

Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants.
All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats

ply;

All day long the wains came laboring down from the village.
Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting,
Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the

church-yard.
Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden

the church-doors
Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy

procession
Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian

farmers.
Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and

their country,
Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and

way-worn,

So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended
Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and

their daughters.
Foremost the young men came; and, raising together their

voices,
Sang they with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic

Missions

" Sacred heart of the Saviour ! O inexhaustible fountain !
Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and

patience ! "
Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that

stood by the way-side
Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine

above them
Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits de

parted.

Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited iu silence,

EVANQELINB. 49

Not overcome with grief, but strom: in tin* hour of

tion
Calmly and Sadly waited, until tin- procession approach! d

her,

And she beheld tin- I'acc of (iabriel pale with nnotion.
Tears then filled her eyes, and 1 y running in inert

him,

Clasped she hi- hand-, and laid her head on his shoulder,

and whimpered

( iahriel! he nf iM>od cheer! tor if we love cue another,
Nothing, in trntli, can harm H-. whatever mischances may

happen!"
Smiling she spake these \\"rds; then suddenly paused, 1'or

ln-r father
Sa\v she slo\\ ly advancing. Alas! how changed was his

aspect!
(lone wa- the^-low from his cheek, and the lire from hi-

eye, and hi- footstep
Heavier .set-mini with the w.-i^ht of the weary lieart in hi-

bosom.

But with a smile and a sii;h, she ela.-ped his neck and em

braced him,
Si)eal<inu' words of endearment where words of comfort

availed not.
Thus to the (iaspereaii's i"outh moved on -that mournful

procession.

There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of em
barking.

Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the eoiifu>ion
\Vive- were torn 1 mm their liusbaiids, and mothers, too

late, saw their children
Li-l't on the land, extending their arms, with wildest en

treaties.

So unto separate sliips wen- Basil and (iahriel carried,
While in despair on the shore Kvan-vline stood with her

father

Half the ta-k was not done when the >uu went down, and

the t wilitrht
Deepened and darkened around; and in lia-te the rellueni

ocean
Fled away from the short;, and left the line of the suml

beuck

EVANGELINE.

Covered with waifs of the tid. with kelp and the slippery

sea- weed.
Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the

wagons,

Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle,
All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them
Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian

farmers.

Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean,
Dragging adowu the beach the rattling pebbles, and

leaving
Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the

sailors.

^Zf>~^-~_'- r* = *,* ~. ;. Tfc^jtf-3*-^.' - -

K. S&^Sv- *** "

Lowing they waited, and long, at the -well-known bars of the farmyard
Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid."

Then, as the night descended, the herds returned froiu

their pastures;
Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from

their udders;
Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of

the farm -yard
Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of

the milkmaid.
Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus

sounded,
Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from

the windows.

XVANGBLINE. 51

But on the shores meanwhile the evi 'ning liri-s had been

kindled,
Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks

in the tempest.
Hound them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were

gathered,
Voices of wonifii were heard, and of men, and the cryin.

of children.
Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his

pariah,
\Vunden-d the faithful priest. condoling and blessing and

cheering,

. .-

'Suddenly nisi- fri'in tin- s< mtli :i liirlit. .-i> in aiituiiui the
M<mti chmbe the iT.vstal wiilU lit" liravi-n. and n't-r tin- h<iri/Dii
Titan lik.' stretches it> hundir.l hands upon mountain and meadow."

Like unto shijnv recked Paul on Melitu's desolate- sea-shore,
'i'hiis he a]>]roa<-hed the place when- Kvanp-line -;it with

her father,

And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man
llairirard and hollow and wan, and without either thought

or einotioii.
l-'.'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been

taken.
Vainly Kvangeline strove with words and caresses to lieer

him,

52 EVANGELINE.

Vainly offered liirn food ; yet lie moved not, he looked not v
lie spake not,

But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-
light,

'" Bencdicite! "' murmured the priest, in tones of com-
passion.

More lie fain would have said, but his heart was full, and
his accents

Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a,
threshold,

Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of
sorrow.

Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the
maiden,

Raising his eyes, full of tears, to the silent stars that above
them

Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sor-
rows of mortals.

Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in
silence.

Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the
blood-red

Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the
horizon

Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and
meadow,

Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows
together.

Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the
village,

Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in
the roadstead.

Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were

Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quiver-
ing hands of a martyr.

Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burning thatch,
and, uplifting,

Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred
house-tops

Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame inter-
mingled.

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and
on shipboard.

EVANGELINB, :>:;

Speechless at lirst they stood, then cried aloud in their

anguish,

\\eshall behold no more our homes in the villa je of
(irand-l'iv !"

London a Midden t lie cork* began to crow iii the farm-
yard-,

Thinkiii"- tlie dav had dawned; and anon the lowing .1

cattle

Came on the evening bree/.e, liy the barking of dogs in-
terrupted.
Then rose a -ound ol' dread, such as startles the sleeping

encampments

Far in the we-tern prairies or forests tliat skirt the Ne-
braska,

\\ "hen the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed

of the whirlwind.

Or the loud bellowing h' nN of buffaloes rush to the river.
Such was the >oiind that amse on the night, as the herds

and the hor-es
Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed

o'er the meadows.
Overwhelmed with the siirht, yet speechless, the priest and

the maiden
(ia/.ed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened

before them :

And a- they turned at length to speak to their silent com-
panion,

Lo ! from hi- >eat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on
the sea shore

Motioide.-s lay his form from uhidi the soul had departed.

Slowly the prie>t uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden

Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror.

Then in a swoon sin- sank, and lay with her head ou his
bosom.

Through the ]on ._ iiii;-ht ^lie lay in deep, oblivious slumber.

And when she wok. from the trance, she beheld a multi-
tude near her

Face- of friends she beheld, that were mournfully L r a/.in--
upon her,

Pallid, with tearful eyefi and looks of saddest compassion.

Stil'i the bla/.e of the 1 HI I'll i ii:;' village illumined the land-
scape,

Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the fa-
around her,

E VANGELINE.

And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering
senses,

Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people

" Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season

Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of
our exile,

Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the church-
yard."

Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by
the sea-side,

Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches,

But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of Grand-
Pre.

And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow,

Lo ! with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast con-
gregation,

Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the
dirges.

'T was the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the
ocean,

With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying
landward.

Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of em-
barking ;

And with the ebb of that tide the ships sailed out of the
/iarbor,

Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village
in ruins.

" Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches.
But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of Grand-Prfe."

" Thru riTiiiiuin-iici-il iiiii-c inrii-c tile stir ;iti(l ri"is.- ,

And with tli-j ebb ul tliat lull- tin- sliips sailed out of the hurbor."

KVANGELINE.

; Lous' anioiiff tJieni was seen a maiden \vh<r\\;iit< (1 and wnndt-red,
Lowly and meek inspirit, and patiently suffering all things."

PART THE SECOND.

MANY a weary year had passed since the burning of 'Grand-

Pre,

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed,
Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile,
Exile without an end, and without an example in story.
Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed;
Scattered were they, like Hakes of snow, when the wind

from the northeast
Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of

Newfoundland,

EVANQELINB. 57

Friendless, homeless, In >| ie l> ---. they wandered I'n nil cit y lo

fit \ .
From 'tin- mill lakes i.f the North to sultry Southern

savanna- -
From the bleak shores of tin- sea to tin- lands where the

Fal her iif \\ all I--;
Sei/.es tin- hills ill his hands, and d fairs them down to the

ocean,

|)cr|i in their sands to hur\ the scattered bones of the
mammoth.

Friends they sought and homes; and many, despairing,
heart ln-oken,

Asked of the earth but a irrave, and no longer a friend nor
a lire>-ide.

Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the
church-yards.

Loiii, r ainoni;- them was seen a maiden \\lio waited and wan-
dered,

Lowly and meek in spirit, ami patiently suffering all
things.

Fair was she and youii!_r; but, alas! before her extended,

hieary and VS&i and silent, the desert of life, with its

pathway

Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suf-
fered before her.

Passions IOIPJ; extinguished, and hopes loii^dead and aban-
doned,

A- the emigrant's way o'er the \Ve-tern desert is marked by

Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the
sunshine.

Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, un-
linished ;

As if a morning >f .Tune, with all its music and sunshine.

Suddenly paii-ed in the sky, and. fading, slowly de-
scended

Into the ea-t a^-ain. from whence it late had arisen.

Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, ur^-ed by the lever

within her,

Urged by a restless huiir'niir, the hunger and thirst of the
spirit,

She would comnience airain her endles^ search and en-
deavor ;

Sometimes in church yards strayed, and gazed on the croflset

uud tombstones,

58 EVANGELINE.

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps ia

in its bosom
He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside

him.

Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper,
Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward.
Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved

and known him,

But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten.
" Gabriel Lajeunesse !" said they ; " O, yes ! we have seen

him.
He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to

the prairies ;
Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters and

trappers,"
"Gabriel Lajeunesse!" said others; " O, yes! we have

seen him.

He is a Yoyagcur in the lowlands of Louisiana."
Then would they say : " Dear child ! why dream and wait

for him longer ?

Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel ? others
Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal ?
Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved

thee
Many a tedious year ; come, give him thy hand and be

happy !

Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses."
Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly "I

cannot !
Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and

not elsewhere.
For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines

the pathway,

Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in dark-
ness."

And thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor,
Said, with a smile " daughter ! thy God thus speaketh

within thee !

Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ;
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning
Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of

refreshment ;
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the

fountain,

EVANGELINE. 59

Patience; accomplish tliy labor; aci'oinj lish tliy work ot

afTectioM !
Sorrow ami silence are simn--, and patii-nt endurance i-

godlike.

Then-fore accomplish tliy labor of love, till tin- heart is

lliailf godlike,

I'urilied, strengthened, pei fected, and rendered mop-
worthy of In-avi'ii !"

<'heered by thr^und man's words, Kvan^i-linr lalxin-d and
waited.

Still in hrr heart she heard the fiuu-ral dir^-e of the ocean,

Hut with its sound there was minirled ;i voice that whis-
pered, " J)esi>air not !"

Thus did that j)oor soul wander in want and cheerless dis-
comfort,

Hlrrdinir. hart-footed, over the shards and thorns of cx-
istence.

Let me essay, (> .Musi- ! to follow the wundcrer's footsteps ;

Not through each devious path, each chanceful year of
existence ;

But as a traveler follows a streamlet's course through the

Valley ;

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its
water

Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only :

Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms
that conceal it,

Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous mur-
mur ;

Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches an
outlet.

EVANGELINE.

-_"

s -v--

' Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi,
Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen."

II.

IT WAS the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River,

Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash,

Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi,

Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boat-
men.

It was a band of exiles; a raft, as it were, from the ship-
wrecked

Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together,

Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common
misfortune;

Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by
hearsay,

Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred
farmers

On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Opelousas.

With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father
Felician.

Onward, o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness somber
with forests,

Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river;

Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its
borders,

Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where
plunielike

EVANGELINE.

ill

W thronprh nisliinp i-Jniti^, .-unoim ^i . . -n i-.hunl<. \\ ln-n- jiliuiif-likf>
i "It .a tix- - iioiUlfd their shuilowj fix-.-t-. tli'-> s--pt with tin- <'iiri. nt.

62 EVANGELINE.

Cotton trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with
the current.

Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand-bar*

Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their
margin,

Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans
waded.

Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the
river,

Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gardens,

Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and dove-
cots.

They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual
summer,

Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange
and citron.

Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the east-
ward.

They, too, swerved from their course; and, entering the
Bayou of Plaquemine.

Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters,

Which, like a network of steel, extended in every direc-
tion.

Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the
cypress

Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air

Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient
cathedrals.

Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the
herons

Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset.

Or by the owl. as he greeted the moon with demoniac
laughter.

Lovely the moonlight was -as it glanced and gleamed on
the water.

Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining
the arches,

Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through
chinks in a ruin.

Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things
around them:

And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and
sadness

Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be com-
passed.

5V,"

Lovely the mwiilitfht vnt u it glanced and

un UK- water.'

64 EVANGELINE.

As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the

prairies,
Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking

mimosa,

So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil,
Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has

attained it.
But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that

faintly
Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the

moonlight.
It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of

a phantom.

Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered be-
fore her,
And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and

nearer.
Then in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the

oarsmen,

And, as a signal sound, if others like them perad venture
Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast

on his bugle.
Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the

blast rang,
Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to the

forest.
Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to

the music.

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance,
Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant

branches ;

But not a voice replied ; no answer came from the dark-
ness ;
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was

the silence.
Then Evangeline slept ; but the boatmen rowed through

the midnight,

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs,
Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers,
And through the night were heard the mysterious sounds

of the desert,

Far off, indistinct, as of wave or wind in the forest,
Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the

grim alligator,

EVANOELINB.

Tims err another noon they emerged from th> i-e --hades ;

and before them

l,a\. in tin 1 gulden sun, tlit- lakes of the Atcli:it';ilaya.
Water lilies in my riad> m -ked on tlie slight undulations
Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beaut \. the

lotus

Lifted her golden crown above the heads of tin- boatmen.
Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia

blossoms,

j
iff

M / . if-' m

n lit-aiity, the lotus

Lift i'il IHT K"l'i'-i> <TI>\VII above the heads of the boatmen.' 1

And \vitli tlie lieat of 110011 ; and nuinberle-- s\lviin
inlands,

Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges
of roses,

Near to who<e shores they glided alon^, invited to slumlier.

Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were sus-
pended.

Under the boughs of \Vuchita willows, that -ie\\ l\ the
margin,

06 EVANGELINE.

Safely tlieir boat was moored ; and scattered auoiu OL t'.-e
greensward,

Tired with tlieir midnight toil, the weary travelers slum-
bered.

Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar.

Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the
grape-vine

Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob,

On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, de-
scending,

Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blossom
to blossom.

Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered be-
neath it.

Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an open-
ing heaven

Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions
celestial.

Nearer and ever nearer, among the numberless islands,

Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the water,

Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and
trappers.

Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison
and beaver.

At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and
careworn.

Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a
sadness

Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written.

Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and
restless,

Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of
sorrow.

Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island,

But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos,

So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the
willows,

And undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen,
were the sleepers ;

Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumbering
maiden.

Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the
prairie.

After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died in the
distance,

Suf.'ly tti.'ir Ixuit w:is i, I,H, i, .1. .-mil M-;ittiT.-i| :I|M.II( on til'- (.-n < n - u ivnl,

Tired wuii tln-ir midnight i..ii, th wear] travel* n

68 EVANGELINE.

As from a magic trance tlie sleepers awoke, and the
maiden

Said with a sigh to the friendly priest "0 Father Fel-
ician !

Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders.

Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition ?

Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to rny
spirit ? "

Then, with a blush, she added "Alas for my credulous
fancy !

Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning.'*

But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he
answered

"Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor are they to me
without meaning.

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the
surface

Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is
hidden.

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls
illusions.

Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the south-
ward,

On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur and
St. Martin.

There the long- wandering bride shall be given again to her
bridegroom,

There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his sheep-
fold.

Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-
trees ;

Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of
heavens

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the
forest.

They who dwell there have named it the Eden of
Louisiana."

And with these words of cheer they arose and continued
their journey.

Softly the evening came. The sun from the western
horizon

Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the land-
scape ;

Twinkling vapors arose ; and sky and water and forest

EVANGELISE.

'-',
W>.

'
> ,

-;^-? S FS"
.,^*

M- '.,

-v

' Nearer, and erer nearer , among the ,

-il ;t liKlit, ^wift li-uit, that S-JHM! uwiiy ..' ilu- \\uttT.'

70 EVANGELINK

Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled
together.

Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver,

Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motionless
water.

Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweet-
ness.

Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountains of feeling

Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters
around her.

Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest
of singers,

Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water,

Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music,

That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed
silent to listen.

Plaintive at first were the tones and sad ; then soaring to
madness

Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bac-
chantes.

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamen-
tation ;

Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in
derision,

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-
tops

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the
branches.

With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with
emotion,

Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the
green Opelousas,

And through the amber air, above the crest of the wood-
land,

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring
dwelling;

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of
cattle.

EVANQELINR. 71

* - i A

'W-.-l
te$

"Tin- IIHUM.' its. 'If was i 'f timlx ix
lit. M> I'ruin the r\ pi BE ti-ci-, :unl i-m-t'ullv litt'-il o-i-tlii r."

III.

NI.\I: To tin- bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks, 1'rmi:

\vho>c ln-aiidii-^

(iiirlands of Spani-li 1110^-, iiinl of my>tir ini<tli-|of tlaiintcd.
SiK-li as tin- hniid.-. cut down with golden liiit<-ln-ts ai ^Hir-

tide, ,

Stood, s.-chidrd and still, tin- liousi- of the ht-rdMiian. A

garden

<iirdrd it round about with a belt of luxuriant blossoms.
Killing tin- air with fragrance. The house itself was of

timbers

Ilrwn from tin- .-yi.nv-s tree, and carefully lilted tn^ethrr.

:iiid low wa^ the roof ; and on slender rolumiis sup-
ported,

M- \vn-athed. vine-mci reh-d. a broad and spaeiou-, vi-randa.
Haunt of tin- himmi'mtr-bird and the b.-c. i-\tt-nded around it
At each end of the hoiis,-, amid the llowi-rs of the garden,
Stationed the dovecot- \\i-re. a> love's (lerprtiial symbol.

Seem- of riidh-- \\ooinij-_ ;ui,l endless contenimns of

rivals,

72 E VANGELINE.

Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and
sunshine

Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in
shadow,

And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding

Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose.

In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a path-
way

Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limit-
less prairie,

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending

Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas

Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the
tropics,

Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape-
vines.

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the

prairie,

Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups,
Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin.
Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish

sombrero
Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its

master.
Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were

grazing

Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness
That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the land

scape.

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and ex-
panding

Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded
Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the

evening.

Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle
Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean.
Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the

prairie,

And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance.
Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the

gate of the garden
Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing

to meet him.

KVANHEUXK.

down t'nnn his horse In- >]>ran^ in ama/ement,

ami forward

li'ii>hed with extruded anus ami exclamations of wonder;
\Vhen they lielield his face, the\ reco^i i i/.rd Ha-ilthe Klack

smith.

lleartv his welcome was, as he led bis gH68tB to the garden
'There in an arlior oi' roses with endless <ine>tioii am

answer

-3B
\^1

$?*S3v;

Vfe&

' /"
'^/

;

" Suit <li 'iilv i n it .f tin- t'r.i^ (llr Imiir liitc Inn-ns of tht-

I;. . . hki- llaki-s iif foam nil till' uilvci-sf c'liri riitsiif oi'i-uji."

d'ave tliey vent to their liearts, and renewed their friendly
embraces,

and weeping hy turn--, or sitting silent and
thoiitrlitt'ul.

ful, i'or (Jahriel came not; and now dark doubts
and n lis-ri viii^s

Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and P.a-il, somewhat einhtir-
ra.ssed.

74 EVANGELINE.

Broke the silence and said " If you conie by the Atcha-

falaya,
How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on

the bayous?"

Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed.
Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous

accent
" Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his

shoulder,
All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and

lamented.
Then the good Basil said and his voice grew blithe as he

said it

" Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed.
Foolish boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my

horses.
Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his

spirit

Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence.
Thinking ever of thee;; uncertain and sorrowful ever,
Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles,
He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens,
Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me and

sent him,
Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the

Spaniards.
Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark

Mountains,
Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the

beaver.
Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive

lover;
He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are

against him.
Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the

morning
We will follow him fast and bring him. back to his

prison."

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of

the river,
Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the

fiddler.
Long under Basil's roof had he lived like a god on Olyni-

pus,

EVANGELINE.

Having no other ran- tli.-in di-pi-iivin^- music t -tal ,

KHI- renowned \\a- In- 1'ur his >il\er loci;-, and his ti<ldli .
" Liiiiir live Mil-had." they cried, "our brave Acadian

minstrel!"

As tlic\ Ixn-f him ali'li in triiim|hal |i|-nr.' inn ; and
^i niiiiht \\ a\

l-'atht-r l-'dician advanced with K\ anu'flin-, ^n-rt in^ tin-
old mail

,</ae;

, ^ < --

ive Michael,' they cried, 'our brave Acadian minstrel!'
As they hurt- him alot't in brlomphal procession."

Kindly and oft, and ivrallin-- tin- past, \vhilr HUM!, enrap-

tared.

Hailed with hilarious jny liis old coiiiiiaiiinns and gossips.
Lau^-hini; loud and lon^-, and niihrarini;- innthcrs and

daughters.

Mildi thry niarvi-lcd to SM- tin- wealth of tin- ci drvant

blacksmith,

All his domains and his ln-rds, and his patriarrhial dc-

meanor;

76 EVANGEL1NE.

Much they marveled to hear his tales of the soil and the

climate,
And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who

would take them;
Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and

do likewise.
Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the airy

veranda,
Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper

of Basil
Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted

together.

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended.

All was silent without, and illuming the landscape with

silver,
Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within

doors,

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glim-
mering lamplight.
Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the

herdsman
Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless

profusion.
Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches

tobacco,
Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as

they listened :
" Welcome once more, my friends, who so long have been

friendless and homeless,
Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance

than the old one!

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers;
Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer.
Smoothly the plowshare runs through the soil as a keel

through the water.
All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and

grass grows

More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer.
Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the

prairies;
Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of

timber
With a few blows of the ax are hewn and framed into

houses.

BVANOELINE, 77

After you r hou^^ are Imili , ami your fields EF6 yellow with
liars estB,

No Kin:' George of Finland Hiall ilriv.- you away from

your homestead
Huming your du filings and harn<. and Mealing your farms

and your cattle."
Speaking these words, lie New a wrathful cloud from his

nostrils,
Ant 1 his Inline, lirawny hand came thundering down on the

table.
So that the quests all started; and Father l-'elician, I

lounded.
Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his

nostrils.
Hut the brave Hasil resumed, anil his words were milder

and ga\ er
"Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the

fe\er!

For it is not like that of OUT cold Acadian climate.

Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a

nutshell!"
Then there \\ei-e voices heart I at the door, and footsteps

approaching

Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the bree/.y veranda.
It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters,
Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the

Herdsman.

Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors;
Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before

were as strangers.
Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each

other, j

Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together.
Hut in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceeding
From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle,
Hroke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted.
All things 1'orgoTtell beside, they gave themselves to the

maddening

Whirl of the di//y dance, as it swept and swayed to the

music,
Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering

garments.
Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest ami

the herdsman

78 EV ANGELINA.

Sat, conversing together of past and present and future;
While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her
Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music
Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness
Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the

garden.
Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the

forest,
Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the

river
Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous

gleam of the moonlight,
Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious

spirit.
Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the

garden
Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and

confessions

Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian
Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows

and night-dews,
Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the magical

moonlight

Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings,
As, through the garden gate, beneath the brown shade of

the oak-trees,
Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless

prairie.

Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and the fire-flies
Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite

numbers.
Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the

heavens,
Shone on the eyes'of man, who had ceased. to marvel and

worship,
Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that

temple,
As if a hand had appeared and written upon them,

"Upharsin."
And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire

flies,

Wandered alone, and she cried "0 Gabriel! O my be-
loved !
Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee?

.1 VQELINB. 7ii

Art thou BO near unto me, and \-t thy voice does not

n-ach me'.'
Ah ! li.\v often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie !

Ah! how often thill" e\e> ha\ e looked o!) thr \\ oodlallds

around mi- !

Ali ! h\v often beneath this oak, returning from labor,
Thou hast lainilo\\u to rot, and to dn am ol'mciii thy

slumbers.

When shall these eyes behold, the-r arms be folded about

thr,

Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill
sounded

Like a tlutr in the woods; and an mi, through the neighbor-

ing tliickets,
Farther and farther away it lloated and dropped into

silence.
Taiience!" \\hispered the oaks from oracular caverns of

darkness;
And, from the moonlit meadow, ;i siirh responded, "To-

morrow !"

rose tin- sun next da\ ; and a-11 the flov/vrs of the

garden
liatheil his .shining feet \vitli their tears, and anointed liis

tresses
With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases of

cryMal.
"Farewell!" said (lie priest, as he stood at the shadowy

threshold;
"St-e that you brin^ us the Prodigal Son from his lasting

and famine.
And, too. the Foolish Virgin, \vlio slept when the bride

ii-room \\a- coming."
"Farewell!" answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Ba-il

descended
l>own to the river's brink, w lie re the boatmen already were

waiting.
Thus be--innimr their journey with morning, and siuisliiue

and ^ladn* -~.
Swiftly they followed the flight of liilli wlio was speedm-

before them,

Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the de-ert.
Not that d-iy. imr the next, nor yet the day that succeeded.
Fuuud they tra< B of his course, in lake or forest or river,

Nor, after many days, liad they found him; but vague and
uncertain

Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and deso-
late country,

Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes,

Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the
garrulous landlord,

That on the day before, with horses and guides and com-
panions,

Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies.

" With horses, and guides, and companions,
Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairiee."

V-

" Into this wonderful 1nnl, ntthehnsp off-he

I,. .l.n> 1 tar hu<l i-lltcruU, VMtli llUIiU'ls ullU U

uclUJlil

IV.

FAR in the West there lies adt-s.-rt land, where the moun-
tains

Lii't, tlinuiirli jM-i-|irtual MHIWS. tlicir lofty and lumiiiou.-
suiiiinits.

Down I'rnni tlicir jairirt-d, dci-p ravim-s, \\licn-tln- irorge,
like a iTJifway,

Opt-iis a i>a>sairc rude t<> the whjels of the emigrant's
wagon,

Westward the Oregon flows and the \Vall-way and
( )\vyl:i-f.

Ka-tw;u-d, witli devious course, junon^ the \Vind-river
Mountains,

Through the Sweet water Y;ill,-v prei-ipitate l./aps

Nebraska;

82 EVANGELIZE.

And to the south, from Fontaiue-qui-bout and the Spanish
sierras,

Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of
the desert,

Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the
ocean,

Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibra-
tions. -

Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beau-
tiful prairies,

Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sunshine,

Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple axn-
orphas.

Over them wander the buffalo herds, and the elk and the
roebuck;

Over them wander the wolves, and herds of riderless
horses;

Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with
travel ;

Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children,

Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible
war-trails

Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture,

Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in
battle,

By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens.

Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage
marauders;

Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-run-
ning rivers;

And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of the
desert,

Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the
brook-side,

And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven,

Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them.

Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Moun-
tains,

Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind
him.

Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and
Basil

Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake
him.

EVANOBLINE,

Sometimes they .saw, or thought they -a\\ . I In- >im iki- of

his ramp tire
Ifise in tlir morning ail' from the distant jilain; Imt at

nightfall,
\N hen they hail readied tin- place, they found only emb.-r-

and a- i
And. though their hrart- were sad at times and their bodies

weir \\ cary .

llopr still guided them on, as tin- ma^ir Fata Mmyana
Shourd thrln lnT lakes of li^ht, t hat ret n-atrd and vanished

lie To re them.

Onrr, as they sat liy their evening lire, there silently

entered

Into the little camp an Indian woman, who*r 1'eatures
Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience ;c- tnvat a^ her

sorrow.

She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her people,
From the tar olT huntinir-irniunds of the cruel ( 'amanches,
\\heie her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois, had

lieell lllUrderell.

'i'ouched were their hearts at her story, and \\ariuestand

friendliest welcome
(lave tiiey, with words of cheer, and .she sat and feasted

aiming Them

<>n the liuf t .:M) meat and the veiisioii cooked on tlie eniliers.
Hut when their meal was d"iir, and Hasil and all his com-

panions,
Worn with the loiiir day's march and the eha^e of the deer

and the bison,
Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the

quivering lire-liiilit
Fla-hed on tUeir swarthy checks, and their forms wrapped

up in their blanket-.

Then at the door of Fvanp-line's tent sin- >at and repeated
Slowly, with .-oft. low voice, and the charm of her Indian

accent,

All the tale of her lovr, with its pleasures, and pains, and

Much Kvanirelinc wept at the tale, and to know that

another
Hapless heart like her own had lovrd and had been disap

pointed.
Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's com-

passion,

84 EVANGELINE.

Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was

near her,

She in turn related her love and all its disasters.
Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she had

ended

Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror
Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale

of the Mowis;
Mowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a

maiden,
But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the

wigwam,

Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine,
Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into

the forest,
Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seem like a weird

incantation,
Told she the tale of the fair Liliuau, who was wooed by a

phantom,
That, through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush

of the twilight,
Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the

maiden,
Till she followed his green and waving plume through the

forest.

And never more returned, nor was seen again by her people.
Silent with wonder and strange surprise Evangeline

listened
To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around

her
Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the

enchantress.

Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose,
Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor
Touching the somber leaves, and embracing and filling the

woodland.
With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the

branches

Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers.
Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart,

but a secret,

Subtile sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror.
As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the

gwallow.

tiVANQELINE.

If was no earthly I'car. A luvatli from tin- IVI^'HUI of
spirits

Sri'inrd to llnat in the air el' ni^hr, and she frit fur a

moment

'I'liat, like tlir Indian maid, >hr, too, was |iiir.MiiiiL: a

phantom.

And \\ilh this thought .sin- ^Icpt.and tin- IVar and tin-
I'haiitoJli had vaiii>hi-d.

'M*n<lt-r:t t.iwri in- oak, that Si I in tin- 111 id -I ..r Hi.- village.

Kn.'lt tin- I'.l.'i.-k Kolw .-liii-r u itli lii> .-liildi-.-ii."

1-larly upon tin- morrow tin- man-li was n-sumiMl: and tlir

Shawnee
Said, as they journeyed along "<)n the wr-t^n, ^]<>\' of

tlirsc mountains

Vvvll.s in liis little villa.irt- tin- Black Kobe cLitf of the Mis-
sion.

86 EVANGELINE.

Much lie teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and
Jesus;

Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as
they hear him."

Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evaugeline an-
swered

"Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await
us!"

Thither they turned their steeds; and behind a spur of the
mountains,

Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of
voices,

And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river,

Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit
Mission.

Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the vil-
lage,

Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A crucifix
fastened

High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grape-
vines,

Looked \vith its agonized face on the multitude kneeling
beneath it.

This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate
arches

Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers,

Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs of the
branches.

Silent, with heads uncovered, the travelers, nearer ap-
proaching.

Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening de-
votions.

But when the service was done, and the benediction had
fallen

Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the
hands of the sower,

Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and
bade them

Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benig-
nant expression,

Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother tongue in the
forest,

And with words of kindness conducted them into his
wigwain.

EVANQEUNS.

Then- upon mat- and skins they reposed, ami on rakes i f

t In- mai/.e ear
Fea-ted, ami slaked their thirst from tin- water .roiird of

the teacher.

S...MI \\a- their -t.n-y told; ami tin- prie.-t with solemnity

answered:

Nut six sun- have risen ami .-et -ince <ial>riel, seated
On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes.
Told me this same -ad tale; then an>-e and continued his

journey!"

Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an ac-
cent of kindness;
Hut on Fvangeline"- heart fell his words a- in winter the

snow-flakes

Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have de-
parted.

"Far to the north lie has gone," continued the priest; "but
in autumn

When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission."

Then Kvangeline said, and her voice was meek and sub-
missive

"Let me remain with thee, for niy soul is sad and
afflicted."

So seemed it wise and well unto all; and betimes on the
morrow,

M^uiit in-- his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and
companions,

Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the
.Mis-ion.

Slowlv, slowlv, slowlv thedavs succeeded each other

. * '

I>ays and weeks and months; and the fields of mai/e that

\\ei-e springing
<ireenfrom the ground when a stranger she cume, now

waving above her,
Lifted their slender shafts, with leave- interlacing, and

forming

Cloi-ter- for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by

squirrels.

Then in the golden weather the mai/.e was husked, and the

maidens

Blusiied at each blond red ear. for that betokened a lover,
But at the crooked laughed, ami called it a thief in the

corn-field.

88 EVANGELINE.

Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover.

"Patience!" the priest would say; "have faith, and thy
prayer will be answered!

Look at this delicate plant that lifts its head from the
meadow,

See how its leaves all point to the north, as true as the
magnet;

It is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has sus-
pended

Here on its fragile stock, to direct the traveler's journey

Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert.

Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of pas-
sion,

Gay and luxuriant flowers, are .brighter and fuller of
fragrance,

But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is
deadly.

Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter

Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the
dews of nepenthe."

So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter yet Ga-
briel came not;

Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin
and blue-bird

Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came
not.

But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was
wafted

Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom.

Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests.

Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw river.

And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St.
Lawrence,

Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission.

When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches,

She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan
forests,

Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin!

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and

places

Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden;
Now in the tents of grace of the meek Moravian Missions,

EVANQELINE s;i

N >\v in tin- \\<>\^\' ramps and tin- l>;iitir lields of tin- army.
Ni\v in -eeluded hamlets, in towns and populous ritie-.
Like a pliautoiu she raine, and pa ed auay mil rinriu-

bered.

l-'air W&8 -In- and y<>un^. wln-n in hope ln-^an tin- \'>i\^

journey;

Failed \\a- -In- and old, \vlini in disappointment it ended.
Kai-h siirceediiiLT \ear stole si ni let 1 1 i n^ a\vay from her

beauty.

Leaving lieliind it, Itmadrr and deeper, the M-looin and tin-

shadow.
Tlieii there appeai-ed and spread faint Mivaksof i^ray o'er

her forehead,

Pawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly hori/.on,
A - in the eastern sU\ the lirst 1'uint streaks of tin- niorniii.ir

EVANGELINE.

" In that delightful land whioh is washed by the Delaware's waters,
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle,
Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded."

In that delightful laud which is washed by the Delaware's

waters,

Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle,
Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he

founded.
There all the air is bairn, and the peach is the emblem of

beauty,
And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the

forest,
As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts

they molested.
There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an

exile,

Finding among the Mldren of Penu a home and a country.
There old Rene Lebianc had died; and when he departed,
Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants.
Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the

city,
Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer

a stranger:

EVANQELINE.

And he;- ear v a-

with the Thee and Thou <>!' the

Km-ii r. Tailed the pa.st, tin- iii.l Acadian country,

\\heiv all men weir eijual. ami all were bn >\ IHTS and

sisters.

So, when tin- I'ruitle^ search, tli.- disappointed rmlfavur.

Kinlrd, to rcc.iiniiK-ncf no morr ii|i..n earth, anciomplaining,

'1'liitlicr. a- li-av.-. to tin- li^lit, \\rrc tiirm-d IHT

and IHT I'ootstc;
A- from a mountain'* top tLf rainy mists ol the

~ ~

\\atchinan

I .'ii ii I, ( limi i ;_'| i tlir )^i i ~l \ -t i . . ! -. I I i.i I :i II v, :i>. \\i II in tin- I'il.V,

ilivrli .'i some luin-ly imlnw in- -a\\ the light of her taper.

Holl away, and afar we behold the landscape below us.

Sun-illumined, with shininir rivers and cities and hamlets,
So fell the mist- from her mind, and she saw the world

1'ar below her,
Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the

pathway
Which she had .i.nbed so tar, lying smooth and fair in

the distance.

92 EVANGELINE.

(jabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his

image,

Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she be-
held him,
Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and

absence.

Into her thoughts of him. time entered not, for it was not.
Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but

transfigured;
He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not

absent;

Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others,
This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught

her.

So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices,
Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with

aroma.

Other hope had she none, nor wish hi life, but to follow
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour.
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequenting
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city.
Where distress and want concealed themselves from the

sunlight,

Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected.
Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the

watchman repeated
Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the

city,

High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper.
Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the

suburbs
Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the

market,
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its

watchings.

Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city,
Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wild

pigeons,
Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their

craws but an acorn.

And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of Sepiember,
Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in a

meadow,

KVAXUKLIXE. .::

So deatli flooded life, and o'ertlowin-- iK natural mar:_ r m.
Spreail to a brackish lake, the silver Mream of existence.
\\ , .ilth liad no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the

oppressor;

P.ut all perished alike beneath the >coiiri:e of his an-rer
v, alas! the poor, who had neit lier friends nor attendants.

. -, o

V *

; D.-iy ,'iftrr <l:iy. in (In- irniy nf tin- il;iwn. :i-< .--low thr. iii^li tin- sulnirl>s
Plodded the German lariner, with flowers and fruit for the market,

Mi-t In- tli;il mi < U. \ >.i It- (ace, 1 1 -I ii rn 111 u 1 1 "ii n- from il> u .-

away to die in tin- almshousr, home of tin- lioim-U-ss.
Thru in tin- Miburbs it Mood, in tin- midst of meadows and

woodlands
Now the city MiiTounds, it; but still with it.s gate- way uiid

wicket

94 EVANGELINE.

Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to

echo
Softly the words of the Lord " The poor ye always have

with you."
Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy.

The dying
Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold

there

Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor,
Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and

apostles,

Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance.
Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial,
Into whose shining gates ere long their spirits would enter.

Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted and

silent,

Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the alms-
house.
Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the

garden ;
And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among

them,
That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance

and beauty.
Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by

the east wind,
Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry

of Christ Church,
While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were

wafted
Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in their

church at Wicaco.
Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her

spirit;
Something within her said "At length thy trials are

ended;"
And, with a light in her looks, she entered the chambers

of sickness.

Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants,
Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in

silence
Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing their

faces,

\Vliereon their pullets the\ lay, like drifts d snow by the

roadside.

Many a languid head, u praise. i as ED vangeline entered,

Turned on its pillow of pain to ^a/.e \\hile she pa-.sed, for

her presence
Fell on their hearts like a ray ol' the sun on the walls [ a

prison.

And, as Phe looked around, she saw how heath, the con

Boler,

Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever
Many familiar forms hat 1 disappeared in the ni-ht time;
\ acant their places were, or filled already hy strangers.

Through llic luisli that Mire. < -.l.-.l

W|US|MT.M| a (ji-ntli- vnirr. in iKTi-nts ti ndci- ;IIH| >..inl Ilk.-,
' li.-iln I'-l' i I in v belOVedt* :unl .lir.l :.w;i> inl.p M|I ii.-. ."

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feelin-: of wonder,
Still she .stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a

shudder

Kan through her frame, and, forgotten, the tlowei.i-

dropped from her fin-rer-.
And from her eyes and cheeks the lighl and Moom of the

morning.

Then there escaped from Lor lips a cry of such terrible
anguish,

That the dyiiiir heard it, and started up from their pillow s.

96 EVANGELINE.

On tlie pallet before her was stretched the form of an old
man.

Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his
temples;

But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment

Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier
manhood;

So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are
dying.

Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever,

As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its
portals,

That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over,

Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit ex-
hausted

Seemed to be sinking down to infinite depths in the dark-
ness,

Darkness of slumber and death, for ever sinking and
sinking.

Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverb-
erations,

Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that
succeeded

Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like,

"Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence.

Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his
childhood ;

Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them,

Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under
their shadow,

As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision.

Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his
eyelids,

Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his
bedside.

Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents un-
uttered

Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue
would have spoken.

Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside
him,

Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom.

Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into
darkness,

EVANOEL1NB.

As when ft lamp is hlnuii >nt liy a ^u-t "!' uind al a ra .

men! .

All u a- ended iinu . tin- In 1 1 H-, ami tin fear, ami ! In- -nrrnu ,
All the aching il' heart, tin- iv>t le--. un>ali>lied luii^ii
All tin- dull, t|rr|i pain, ami cmi>tuit an^ni-h nf paliem-i-'
Ami. a- -hf lH-rv-rtl micr imilr tlir HfeletSS hrail I" h''!'

bosom,

Mcrklv >hc liou rd her nun, ami iniiniiiiicil, "Kallicr, 1
thank tliee!"

;

; . ' '

" Side' liy sidf, in tlu-ir iiani<-!r<s LTI"IV -, (In- ! pinp,

t'nili'i- tin' In 1 1 nl ilf \\.-ills dt' tli.' lit tli- i .it liolir i-liiiri'li v.'inl,
In Ih<- In .11 1 nl 'I In' r:I \ ."

Sill, I. MamN tlir t'lin-st i>riinr\-al; hut far away from its

shadow,
Side hy Mdr, in tlicir nail- tin- invcrs art-

sleeping.

I'lidcr tin- liuiiihli 1 walls nf the little Catlmlic church-

\ard.

Ill the heart nf the city. !hey lie, unknown and unnoticed.
]>aily the tide> nf life ^-n ehhin^ and lln\vinu' hc-ide them,
Tliuusunds nf tlu-nhliin^ heart-, \\ln-re their- are at

and I'm- ever,

Colophon

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