Infomotions, Inc.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 



BY 



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- 
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of our publications, and is no more than a fair il- 
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" 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. 



Copyright. 1892, by The Elzevir Co. 



PROPERTY OF THB 



cU 



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 

MaiiN a \. .ulh, as In- km It in (hi- i-hiirrh ami <I|H-III-I| hi- ini.-.^il, 
Fixi-il hi- ' > - n | ii i! I In I as tin- -ami nl" in- ili-i-|ii->t i Ii A i it |. .11." 

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, 




v 














'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 



13 




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 



I. 

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, 



16 



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, 



17 



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- | 



18 



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. 



19 



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; 



1 



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. 



Jl 



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, 



22 



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." 



34 



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. 



36 



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 : 



38 



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, 



. 

L 

I 

. 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 



11 



<>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. 



47 




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

V 

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 



50 



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 

i 

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, 



54 



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. 



I. 

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. 



60 



EVANGELINE. 



-_" 

s -v-- 



f> 







. 



' 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. 



68 



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. 



65 



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 

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, 



80 



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. 



85 



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 



90 



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." 



V. 

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. 



91 



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 



~ ~ 






v 






\\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!" 



, 





; 



; . ' ' 

m 



" 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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