LIBRARY Of CONGRESS. Cliap.......'.. Copyright No Shelf„:L?.,Z_. > ^ — im&^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ^Itc Stttdewts' Mi^vUs of ^tjjjltslx ©lassies. : &^> HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW'S EVANGELINE a Eale of ^catrte EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, BY MARY HARRIOTT NORRIS Professor of English Literature, New York City Editor of George Eliot's "Silas Marner'* and Sir Walter Scott's ** Marmion " Author of "Dorothy Delafield," "The Nine Blessings," "John Apple- gate, Surgeon," " Lakewood : a Story qf ,Xf>rDAY^" etc ^- ''^^ ■ '^ ^ 6 ff- 'y. LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. Copyright, 1896, By Leach, Shewell, & Sanborn. C. J. Peters & Son, Ttpographees. Berwick & Smith, Printers. PREFACE, Some knowledge of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as scholar and poet is necessary to the equipment of any one desirous of possessing a general acquaintance with the development of English literature in the United States. The editor of Evangeline therefore has made a direct effort in her Notes and Introduction to keep this twofold need in mind. To facilitate her purpose she has deemed it her duty, rather than that of the pupil, to supply most of the knowledge obtainable from dictionaries and cyclo- paedias.' Moreover, it is no help to a student, eager for information, but destitute of library or works of refer- ence, or greatly limited in time, to be told to consult dictionary or cyclopaedia. If he has average intelligence, he knows as much as this himself. The editor occasionally has made a digression in her annotations on words like '^ emblazon '' or '' ambrosial,'' which, while really giving information extraneous to the subject-matter, nevertheless afford an opportunity better to judge of Longfellow's culture, and its importance as a factor in his final poetic expression. By tracing the source of many of the poet's allusions, she has tried to emphasize the value of varied reading as an element of ill IV PREFACE. literary power. It is her earnest hope that students will be inspired to devote the time she has attempted to save for them in a closer examination than they might otherwise have made of peculiarities of style and con- struction, and of the principles of poetics. The purity of thought and feeling embodied in Evan- geline are worthy of a month of study ; for in this narra- tive poem Longfellow has caught the true spirit of the gleeman, the minnesinger, the troiivh^e, — a spirit of graphic yet tender recital, mingled with deft reflection. MARY HAKRIOTT NORRIS. New York, April, 1896. CONTENTS. PAGE IXTPvODUCTION 1 EvAXGELiiS'E : A Tale of Acadie 15 Literary Estimates 113 Notes 116 INTRODUCTION. When we consider that since the invention of printing till early in the nineteenth century, about eleven million volumes have been issued, and that five thousand of these have been written on Goethe alone, we gain a fresh idea of the impor- tance of the few writers whose names and works become pre- eminent. Among the favored few stands Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. A writer in the January Forum of 1893 made the statement that at one time a literature of genius was produced in Amer- ica, although the greater portion appeared in Massachusetts. He named as men of genius, Whittier, Bryant, Hawthorne, Poe, Emerson, Irving, Prescott, Motley, Lowell, Holmes, and Longfellow, all of whom were born between 1780 and 1825. Since 1825, this writer further stated, no author has arisen in the United States who can be compared with these men. The reason given for this literary peculiarity was that by 1780 the people of Massachusetts especially, who were of English stock, had become homogeneous, and had then begun to develop a " literature of power " in poetry, romance, oratory, philosophy, history, and theology. Whatever may be our opinion of the justness of such a lim- itation of genius in letters in the United States, of one thing we are assured ; among these notable men, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is the representative poet. It will be an interest- 1 2 INTRODUCTION. ing task to see whether he was in ancestry, in his moral, intel- lectual, and social development, and also in the form and content of his poetic expression, a typical American. The poet was of pure English stock, as his maternal ances- tors, the Wadsworths, as well as the Longfellows, came from Yorkshire. On his mother's side he was descended from " John Alden and Priscilla," while on his father's side his pro- genitors showed that evolution of an American family before our Civil War w^hich produced a '' gentleman " whom Piers the Ploughman could have accepted, and such a man of the world and of affairs as polite society everywhere welcomes. Longfellow the poet w^as the son of Stephen Longfellow, lawyer and statesman. The lawyer was the son of a farmer, who was also judge of the Court of Common Pleas. The far- mer was the son of a blacksmith. The blacksmith was the possible prototype of Basil in Evangeline ; he w^as also in the thought of the poet when writing : — ** Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend. For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be Avrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! " [See poem. The Village BlacTcsmith.] A praiseworthy effort is now being made to preserve the birthplaces or the sometime dwellings of famous Americans. But before this sensible thought had seized the national mind, the fine old home of Captain Samuel Stephenson, in Portland, Me., where Henry Wadsw^orth Longfellow was born, Feb. 27, 1807, was converted into a tenement. Its dignified front, instead of commanding Casco Bay, as it did early in the cen- tury, now faces a mass of railway buildings. However, the INTRODUCTION, 3 brick house where the poet's youth was passed still exists in the very centre of the business portion of Maine's chief town. This house was the property of Longfellow's maternal grand- father, General Peleg Wadsworth, who also owned an exten- sive tract of land known as the AYadsworth Grant. Between this estate and the farm of his paternal grandfather at Gorham, the future poet had a fine range of country life in his summer vacations. While sensitively organized, he grew to manhood well bal- anced in body, mind, and temperament. His instincts and habits were orderly, and his impulses upright. By means of his father's small but well-selected library, the Portland library, and the bookstore of a Mr. Johnson, the boy had a chance to feed his literary instincts, which had a rapid, but by no means precocious, development. His school-life began at three, and, including his professor- ships, ended at forty-seven. At six years of age he could read, spell, and multiply. At seven he had gone half through the Latin grammar. His first poem, The Battle of LovelVs Pond, was written when he was thirteen, and published in the Portland Gazette, It was an imitative ballad, and is of no importance except to show a certain youthful impressionability to rhyme and rhythm. At fourteen Longfellow passed the entrance examinations for Bowdoin, graduating from that college in 1825. Na- thaniel Hawthorne was one of several classmates who rose to distinction. During his college-life Longfellow dabbled in poetry ; but only five of the poems written at that time found a place in his first volume of original poetry, Voices of the Night, published in 1839. Bryant was his first master. The simplicity, dignity, and blank verse of Bryant no doubt helped clarify both the 4 INTRODUCTION. thought and style of one who, all his life, was dominated by the Latin races in his persistent use of rhyme. At seventeen his literary ambitions were clearly defined, and his letters to his father at this time are interesting in affording a glimpse of his estimate of himself. His father's replies are characteristic of the early part of this century, the point of view of an American gentleman, and of the healthful relation existing between father and son. But circumstances as well as natural proclivity helped shape Longfellow's future course. He did not blaze his way to fame. In his case, as in that of Wordsworth, a series of events led to such a simple and natural evolution of the poet that his literary development seemed inevitable. He most earnestly desired, after graduation from Bowdoin, to spend a year at Cambridge ; and this wish, through the indulgent co-operation of his father, he was enabled to gratify. In these days of heavy college expenses, it is interesting to note that the cost of a year at Cambridge in 1825 was about S184. The poet's career as a man was destined, however, to a most auspicious beginning ; for the Board of Trustees of Bowdoin voted, at the Commencement in 1825, to establish a " Profes- sorship of the Modern Languages." The Board proposed that Henry W. Longfellow should visit Europe to further fit him- self in languages, and that on his return the chair should be his. Although Longfellow was versatile and talented, he realized, after his arrival in France, that long and varied post-graduate study was essential for a thorough professional equipment. An absence from home of three years, during which he had studied in France, Spain, Italy, and Germany, greatly broad- ened his views, deepened his perceptions, and admirably fitted him to inspire his pupils with true ideas of literary culture, INTRODUCTION. 5 and to disabuse their minds of the notion that the acquisition of a language is the easy pastime of a few lessons, or that education, much less culture, is the possession of a mass of unassimilated and heterogeneous information. His arrival in America, in August, 1829, was followed the next month by his return to Bowdoin in the double capacity of professor and librarian, at a salary of one thousand dollars. He remained five and a haK years, teaching, editing text-books for his pupils, and lecturing. He also, in 1831, began to write for the North American Review, his first paper in that periodi- cal being entitled " The Origin and Progress of the French Language." His articles for the New England Magazine bore the appropriate title of " The Schoolmaster," and eventually were revised and incorporated in Outre-Mer\ his first prose work, which was published in 1835. His first book, however, was a small volume of ninety pages of translations from the Spanish, published in 1833. His nomination to the " Smith Professorship of Modern Languages " in Harvard University in 1834 led to a second preliminary journey abroad for purposes of study both in Ger- man and in the Scandinavian tongues. The summer of 1835 was spent in Stockholm, studying Swedish and Finnish. In September he was in Copenhagen, pursuing Icelandic and Danish. October found him in Hol- land, acquiring Dutch. In December he reached Heidelberg, where he began a thorough course of German literature. As in his translation of The Children of the Lord's Supper we have a memento of his life in Sweden, so in Hyperion, his second prose work, published in 1839, do we trace the course of his contact with German sentiment. Probably no American professor of languages in 1837 had so thorough an equipment as Longfellow. 6 INTBOBUCTION, It is the knowledge of his protracted study of languages, his life-long association with the New England literati, his resi- dence at Cambridge, his lectures at Harvard and his public, lectures, his many translations, notably that of the Divine Comedy^ added to the general air of books, travel, culture, and great personal refinement investing him during the entire pe- riod of manhood, which makes it so difficult to distinguish how much of his success in life was due to culture, how much to talent, and whether his talent at times passed its boundary, and sought the rarer atmosphere of genius. Certainly, if one should attempt to place Longfellow's poetry under any one division, it w^ould be that of sentiment. He never became the exponent of absolute passion as did Shelley, Keats, and Mrs. Browning. He failed to reach, in Evangeline, those heights of feeling attained by Tennyson in Guinevere and Elaine. Again, he was under no pressure of time and place to exert himself outside the realm of translation, lyrics, and narratives ; for he was the dove sent out of the ark of his country's intelligence, and he returned bearing a twig of Old World culture and lore. By his American tact, instinct, and religiousness, he vivified the mass of European material he had assimilated with a warmth of national color and tone and thus rendered it acceptable, when a poet with the outfit of a Landor or a Swinburne would have been silenced by stern Puritan dis- approval. He was the conspicuous forerunner of American cosmopolitanism in letters. At the same time, there is much that Longfellow has written w^hich could not be fully appre- ciated outside of English-speaking peoples. Who, besides the English and Americans, could understand Elizabeth's spirit- ual sophistication in The Theologian's Tale f Her love is so quaintly, and withal naturally, expressed that we listen with the hero's devout and sympathetic ear to her confession. INTRODUCTION. 7 In passing, it is interesting to compare the hexameter of TJie Theologian's Tale with that of Evangeline ; it is much more unevenly written, often degenerating into prose, as does also that of the otherwise beautiful version of Bishop Tegner's The Children of the Lord's Supper. The setting of The Birds of Killingworth, as well as of The Courtship of Miles Standish and of Hiawatha, is distinctly national. Notwithstanding these and kindred poems, Long- fellow has been called the least American of our poets. His versatility and responsiveness were great; but he was thor- oughly American, while at the same time as much a reflector of European poetry as Chaucer was of the Italian Renaissance poetry. He was by turns a Spaniard, an Italian, a German, and a Scandinavian in thought, a Frenchman in diction, but always an American in omnivorousness of acquisition and selection, and supremely what might be called an indigenous product of Puritanism in nineteenth century N'ew England transition. Heine's influence is seen in The Day is Done, Twilight, and The Bridge ; that of Uhland is observable in Nuremberg, The Psalm of Life has been dissected line by line to prove how extensively its author plagiarized. Coleridge was another famous borrower. Assimilation, doubtless, had been so perfect in the case of each of these poets that they were unable to dis- criminate between what was acquired or original. Perhaps Mr. M. W. Hazeltine's statement on this subject affords a suffi- cient answer to the charge. Mr. Hazeltine says, " The simple test of an author's right to borrow is this : < Is he able to lend?'" The Building of the Ship is an instance of Longfellow's poeti- cal acquisitiveness. One wonders, if he had not read Schiller, whether he could have written this fine poem, now reflective. 8 INTRODUCTION, again descriptive, and replete with sentiment. The Wreck of the Hesperus recalls the stern coast of Gloucester, the life of that seaport, and also at once swings us back to England's fifteenth and sixteenth century ballads. The song of three stanzas, " Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest,'' suggests in the metre, and some influence w^hich it breathes, Tennyson's The Princess. The three series of narrative poems called Tales of a Way- side Inn, the plan of which is undoubtedly based on The Can- terbury Tales, shows an affluence of learning not necessarily profound. The descriptions of the Sicilian, the musician and the violin, are musical and happy. The student's tale of The Falcon of Ser Federigo is, as the poet says, taken from the Decameron. While it has Boccaccio's touch of utter simplicity, elegance, and pathos, it is obviously imperfect in the sequence of the descriptive passages. The Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi, one of the tales of the Span- ish Jew, is sometimes instanced as a proof of Longfellow's claim to the loftiest rank among poets. The interlude fol- lowing The Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi is exquisite, and most gracefully introduces King Robert of Sicily. In King Robert of Sicily, the story runs consistently and directly to its close. But this artistic poem, while not more artistic than Tenny- son's The Holy Grail, cannot, however, compare with The Holy Grail in depth of spiritual suggestion. Of all the poems in Tales of a Wayside Inn, none can be more pleasing to native ears and sentiment, and none quite so indicative of Longfellow's skill, because the themes had not been wrought over and upon by poets for centuries, as the land- lord's tale. Paid Revere' s Ride, the poet's tale, The Birds of Killingworth, and also his second one, Lady Wentworth, and, finally, the theologian's tale, Elizabeth. INTR OD UCTION. 9 As a sonneteer, Longfellow was very successful. In sonnets, his perception of the music in language, and his "gift of tongues," found adequate expression. As indicative of the ease with which his thought may be followed in this com- plex metrical handling, and because of a classic chasteness of description imbued with feeling and reflection. The Old Bridge at Florence and Three Friends of Mine are worthy of study, and may compare with some of Wordsw^orth's. AYhile not possessing the ruggedness or the sculpturesque e;ffect of those of Shakespeare, the Longfellow sonnets show the limpid clear- ness of their transalpine prototype. The poems on which the poet's reputation mainly rests are Evangeline and Hiawatha. To realize the beauty of its hexameter, Evangeline should be approached by reading, first, the translation, in hexameter, of Bishop Tegner's The Children of the Lord's Supper ; next, Elizabeth ; and, third, The Courtship of Miles Standish, Mr. M. W. Hazeltine complains that " the sluggish and ponderous effect produced by the use of the spondee in the fifth place is twenty times more frequent in Evangeline than in Ovid or Yirgil ; " but he also says, " Evangeline may well be ranked among the superlative exhibitions of pathetic power." England has an abstract expression, and a greater one, of Puritan religious feeling in Paradise Lost : America has a con- crete one, very sweet and human, although sincere and pro- found, not only in the moral attitude of Priscilla and Elizabeth, but in that also of the Catholic maiden, Evangeline. Hiawatha has been called "the great opportunity of Long- fellow's life." The metre is a Finnish one, and was employed in the ancient Sagas, or epic poems, of the Scandinavians. It was 1 IN TROD UCTION, unknown to English verse, except in translations, when Hia- watha was wTitten. To enjoy this folk-song, one must have an imagination kindred to that of Hans Christian Andersen, or of La Motte Fouque. It should be read aloud, and with the abandon, if possible, of the improvisator. It is full of Indian legends, and not of bizarre tales invented by Longfellow, as some adverse critics have asserted. Hiawatha was the founder of Iroquois civilization, and revered as a god by those tribes. The poem is the story of his conquests over his enemies, the history of his friends, and also of other great Indian lights. It is an enchanting account of his courtship and marriage, of the troubles which overtook his people, the Ojibways, .of the loss of his wife, Minnehaha, of the destruction of the mischievous Paupuk- keewis, and of Hiawatha's own translation to the Land of the Hereafter. Various Indian myths also are introduced, and the reader is startled by the appearance in legends of the North American Indians of the stories of Buddha and Achilles and the doctrines of altruism and the resurrection. To the edi- tor's mind, Hiawatha is the most original contribution yet made in poetry to American literature. Although the Christus was a work upon which endless time, labor, thought, and love were expended, it lacks unity, while containing many passages of superlative beauty. The Spanish Gypsy seems like a crystallized, youthful prod- uct, and reminds the reader of the poet's almost juvenile handling of themes in Outre-Mer, It totally lacks dramatic power. Michael Angela, Longfellow's long, unfinished composition, is, in a certain coolness and severity of treatment, statuesque. It is as though the great architect and sculptor had cast the INTRODUCTION, 11 glamour of his genius over the poem, which is seldom suffi- ciently pictorial. Michael Angelo and Yittoria Colonna are almost epic characters ; and this Longfellow seems fully to have realized in his patient and continued effort to ennoble his drama. Nearly all of his work is too suggestive of other poets; and Michael Angelo, as a highly original creation, is condemned, when subjected to this crucial test. The dra- matic form, together with the pose and conversation of the various characters, insinuates into the critic's thought Goethe's Torquato Tasso. There are passages so exquisitely beautiful on Petrarch, that English, under the American poet's plastic manipulation, breathes the melody and pathos combined which immortalized the Italian singer. Again, Dante's fire, imagery, and grandeur appear ; but they are reflected, one feels, by reason of Longfellow's universal sympathy. Presently and suddenly the reader finds the style changing, as the burning splendor of the setting sun lighting up a row of windows will die away, leaving behind nothing but a cold, glittering, and polished surface. There is, notwithstanding, in the Michael Angelo, an evenly sustained treatment which makes the drama superior to any comparison with that of The Spanish Gypsy, The poet's college lectures on Dante, and years of study of that poet, led to his successful translation of the Divine Comedy. The translation is an achievement in being nearly literal, and still very musical. This work of his ripe maturity is companioned by two of the finest things he ever wrote, Keramos and Morituri Salutamus — shining evidences of the intellectual vitality often peculiar to the man or woman of letters of advanced years. Longfellow was highly esteemed abroad. A Swedish pro- fessor devoted the lectures on literature for an entire year to 12 INTRODUCTION. the poet and his writings. He has been translated into all European languages. He was the recipient of many literary honors. His own college made him LL.D. at twenty-one years of age. Harvard gave him the same degree at fifty-two. Cambridge honored him in this way when he was sixty-one years old, and Oxford made him D.C.L. when he was sixty-two. He was elected member of the Russian Academy of Science at sixty-six years of age, and of the Spanish Academy at seventy. His last prose work, Kavanagh, was written in 1849. The characters are refined and suggestive. The story is discursive and sketchy ; the style is fine. After the age of forty-seven, Longfellow's literary effort was altogether in poetry. It is to be observed that, with the ex- ception of Evangeline, which was published in 1847, most of his best poetry dates from the resignation of the Harvard professorship. Hiaivatha was published in 1855. The Court- ship of Miles Standish appeared in 1858; included in the vol- ume was the first series of Birds of Passage. In 1863 Tales of a Wayside Inn and the second series of Birds of Passage were published. The completed translation of Dante was given to the public in 1867. Christus : A Mystery appeared in final form in 1873 ; to this year also belong The Hanging of the Crane and the last narratives of Part Third of Tales of a Wayside Inn. Morituri Salutamus was written in 1874, and portions of " Flight the Fifth " of Birds of Passage in 1878. The poet was twice married. His first wife was Mary Storer Potter of Portland, Me. She died at Rotterdam, November, 1835. His second wife was Frances Elizabeth Appleton of Boston, Mass. She died in July, 1861. Through this second marriage Longfellow became owner of the cele- brated Craigie House, which Washington made his head- INTRODUCTION. 13 quarters on assuming command of the American army in 1876. Here the poet lived from 1837 till his death on March 24, 1882. The even tenor of his life was varied by a third journey to Europe in 1842, and a fourth and last journey in 1868. Mr. Thomas Davidson truly says that " Longfellow's exter- nal life presents little that is of striking interest. It is the life of a modest, deep-hearted gentleman, whose highest ambi- tion was to be a perfect man, and, through sympathy and love, to help others be the same. ... In Longfellow . . . the poet was the flower and fruit of the man. His nature was essen- tially poetic, and his life incomparably the greatest of his poems." EVANGELINE This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded 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 its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighbor- ing ocean 5 Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the Avail of the forest. 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 thatched-roofed village, the home of Aca- dian farmers, — Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands, 10 Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven? 15 16 EVANGELINE: Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers for- ever departed ! 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. 15 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. A TALE OF ACADIE. 17 PART THE FIEST. I. Ix the Acadian land^ on the shores of the Basin of Minas, Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward, Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks with- out number. Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, 5 Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains 10 Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their sta- tion descended. 18 EVANGELINE: There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock, Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries. 15 Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows ; and gables projecting Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles 20 Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors Mingled their sounds with the whirl 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. 25 Eeverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons ^nd maidens. Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. A TALE OF AC ABIE, 19 Then came the laborers home from the field, and se- renely the sun sank Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village 30 Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, Eose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. 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. 35 Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows ; But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners ; There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas, Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand- Pre, 40 Dwelt on his goodly acres ; and with him, directing his household, 20 EVANGELINE: Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village. Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters ; Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes ; White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. 45 Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside. Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shades of her tresses ! Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide 50 Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah ! fair in sooth was the maiden. Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal, 55 Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings. A TALE OF ACADIE. 21 Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long gen- erations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, 60 Homeward serenely she walked with God^s benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea ; and a shady Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it. 65 Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath ; and a footpath Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse. Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road- side, Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. 70 Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown 22 EVANGELINE : Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the barns and the farm-yard. There stood the broad-wheeled w^ains and the antique ploughs and the harrows ; There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio, 75 Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the selfsame Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In each one Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase. Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn- loft. 80 There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and inno- cent inmates Murmuring ever of love ; while above in the variant breezes Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation. Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand-Pre Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his household. 85 A TALE OF ACABIE. 23 Many a youth, as lie knelt in church and opened his missal, Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest devotion ; Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her garment ! Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness be- friended, And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps, 90 Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron; Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint 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 ; 95 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. Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest childhood 100 24 EVANGELINE: Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, 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. But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson completed, Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith. 105 There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold him Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cart-wheel Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering darkness 110 Bursting with light seemed the smithy^ through every cranny and crevice, Warm by the 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, 115 A TALE OF ACADIK 25 Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. 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 ! 120 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 Eulalie '' was she called ; for that was the sunshine 125 Which, as the farmers believed, would load their or- chards with apples ; She, too, would bring to her husband's house delight and abundance. Filling it with love and the ruddy faces of children. 26 EVANGELINE: II. Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion en- ters. 130 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 forest, as Jacob of old with the angel. All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 135 Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their honey Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters as- serted 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 ! i4o Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light ; and the landscape Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the ocean A TALE OF ACADIE. 27 Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in har- mony blended. Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm-yards, i^^ Whir of wings in the drowsy air^ and the cooing of pigeons, All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the great sun Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around him ; While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow, Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the forest 150 Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels. ;N'ow recommenced the reign of rest and affection and stillness. Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twi- light descending Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to the homestead. Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each other, 155 And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of evening. Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, 28 EVANGELINE: Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from her collar, Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from the seaside, leo Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them fol- lowed the watch-dog, . Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct. Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the strag- glers ; Eegent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept ; their protector, 165 When from the forest at night, through the starry silence the wolves howled. 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 pon- derous saddles, i70 Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson, Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. A TALE OF ACADIE. 29 Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders Unto the milkmaid^s hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets de- scended. 175 Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm-yard, Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into still- ness; Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn-doors, Eattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmer iso Sat in his elbow-chair and watched how the flames and the smoke-wreaths Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind him, Nodding and mocking along the wall, with gestures fantastic. Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness. Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair i85 Laughed in the flickering light ; and the pewter plates on the dresser 30 EVANGELINE: Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sunshine. Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgun- dian vineyards. 190 Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated. Spinning flax for the 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. 195 As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases. Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the altar,- So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock clicked. Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted, Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges. 200 A TALE OF ACAJDIE. 31 Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith, And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. " Welcome ! " the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused on the threshold, " Welcome, Basil, my friend ! Come, take thy place on the settle Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty with- out thee ; 205 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, 210 Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire- side : — " Benedict Belief ontaine, thou hast 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.^^ 215 32 EVANGELINE: 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 Eide in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed against us. What their design may be is unknown ; but all are commanded 220 On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Maj- esty's mandate Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas ! in the meantime Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the peo- ple.^' Then made answer the farmer : " Perhaps some friend- lier purpose Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests in England 225 By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and children.'' ^^N"ot so thinketh the folk in the village," said warmly, the blacksmith. Shaking his head, as in doubt ; then, heaving a sigh, he continued : — "Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Eoyal. 230 A TALE OF AC ABIE. 33 Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to- morrow. Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all kinds; Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the sc}^he of the mower.'' Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer : — 235 ^^ Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields. Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the ocean, Than 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. 240 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 hpre anon, with his papers and inkhorn. Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our children?" 245 34 EVANGELINE : 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. III. Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean. Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public; 250 Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung Over his shoulders ; his forehead was high ; and glasses with horn bows Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom su- pernal. Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch tick. 255 Four long years in the times of the war had he lan- guished a captive. Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the English. Now, though warier grown, without all guile or sus- picion, Eipe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. A TALE OF AC ABIE. ^ 35 He was beloved by all, and most of all by the chil- dren ; 260 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 who unchristened Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children; And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable, 265 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 vil- lage. Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith, Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand, 270 ^^ Father Leblanc,^^ he exclaimed, ^Hhou hast heard the talk in 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 wiser ; 36 EVANGELINE: Yet am 1 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, 280 " Man is unjust, but God is just ; and finally justice Triumphs ; and well I remember a stor}^, that often consoled me. When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Eoyal/' This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them. 285 "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember. Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand, And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people. 290 A TALE OF ACADIE. 37 Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance, Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sun-' shine above them. But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted ; Might took the place of right; and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty Euled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a noble- man's palace 295 That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a suspicion Fell on an orphan girl who lived as a maid in the household. She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaf- fold. Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as- cended, 300 Lo ! o'er the city a tempest rose ; and the bolts of the thunder Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand Down on the pavement below the clattering 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 inwoven.^' 305 38 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-frames in the winter. Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table, 310 Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home- brewed Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pre ; While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn, AVrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle. 315 Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed. And the great seal of the law was set 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 pieces of sil- ver: A TALE OF ACADIE. 39 And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the bridegroom, 320 Lifted 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 fire- side. Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men 325 Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre. 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 embrasure, Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mists of the meadows. 330 Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Thus was the evening passed. Anon the bell from the belfry Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway 40 EVANGELINE : Eose the guests and departed ; and silence reigned in the household. 335 Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door- step Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness. Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the hearth-stone, And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline followed. 340 Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness, Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. Silent she passed 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 care- fully folded 345 Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband in marriage. Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a housewife. Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant moonlight A TALE OF ACADIE. 41 Streamed througli the Avindows, and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden 350 Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber ! Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard. Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow. 355 Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moonlight Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the moon pass Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her footsteps, 360 As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar ! IV. Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pre. Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, 42 EVANGELINE: Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor. Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor 365 Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. Now from the country around, from the farms and 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, 370 Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the greensward, Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the highway. Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups 'at the house-doors Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. 375 Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted ; For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together. All things were held in common, and wjiat one h^d was another's. A TALE OF ACADIE, 43 Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant : 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. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal. There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated ; 385 There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the black- smith. N"ot far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the beehives, Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats. 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 390 Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres^ and Le Carillon de Dunqicerquej 44 EVANGELINE: And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances 395 Under the orchard trees and down the path to the meadows ; Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them. Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter ! Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith ! So passed the morning away. And lo ! with a summons sonorous 40o Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. Thronged erelong was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard, Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them 405 Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement, — A TALE OF AC ABIE. 45 Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar, 410 Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. ^^You are convened this day," he said, ^^by his Majesty's orders. Clement and kind has he been ; but how you have answered 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. 415 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 Maj- esty's pleasure ! '' As, when the air is serene in sultry solstice of sum- mer. 46 EVA NGELINE : 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, 425 Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their en- 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 door-way. 430 Vain was the hope of escape ; and cries and fierce imprecations Eang through the house of prayer ; and high o'er the heads of the others Eose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith. As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the bil- lows. Flushed was his face and distorted with passion ; and wildly he shouted, — 435 ^^ Down with the tyrants of England ! We never have sworn them allegiance ! Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests ! " A TALE OF ACADIE. 47 More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, 44o Lo ! the door of the chancel opened, and Pather Felician Entered with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence All that clamorous throng ; and thus he spake to his people ; Deep were his tones and solemn ; in accents measured and mournful 445 Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. " What is this that ye do, my children ? What m^adness has seized you ? Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you, Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one an- other ! Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations ? 450 Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness ? 48 EVANGELINE: This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred ? Lo ! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you ! See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion ! 455 Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, ^ Father, forgive them!' Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked •assail us, Let us repeat it now, and say, ' Pather, forgive them ! ' '' Pew were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passion- ate outbreak, 4go While they repeated his prayer, and said, '^ Pather, forgive them ! '^ Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar. Pervent 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, 4Go A TALE OF ACAD IE. 49 Eose 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, descending, 470 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 the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh from the dairy, 475 And, at the head of the board, the great arm-chair of the farmer. Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad am- brosial meadows. Ah ! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen. And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended, — 48o 50 EVANGELINE: Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience ! Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village. Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of women, As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed. Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children. 485 Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmer- ing vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descend- ing from Sinai. Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evan- geline lingered. All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows ^ 490 Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by emotion, ^^ Gabriel ! '' 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. A TALE OF AC ABIE. 61 Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board was the supper untasted, 495 Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror. Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate 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 500 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 soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning. V. Four times the sun had risen and set ; and now on the fifth day Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. 505 Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession. Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women. 52 EVANGELINE Driving in ponderous wains tlieir household goods to the sea-shore, Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings, Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the w^oodland. 510 Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, While in their little hands they clasped some frag- ments 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; 515 All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting. Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the churchyard. Thither the women and children thronged. On a sud- den the church-doors Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy procession 520 Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. A TALE OF AC ABIE, 58 Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country, Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and wayworn, So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants de- scended Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. 525 Foremost the young men came; and, raising together their voices. Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions : — " Sacred heart of the Saviour ! 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 wayside 530 Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine above them Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, — Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession ap- proached her, 535 54 EVANGELINE: And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him, Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoul- der, and whispered, — ^^ Gabriel ! be of good cheer ! for if we love one another ISTothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen V 540 Smiling she spake these words ; then suddenly paused, for her father Saw she slowly advancing. Alas ! how changed was his aspect ! Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and his footstep Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his bosom. But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him, 545 Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed not. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mourn- ful procession. There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking. Busily plied the freighted boats ; and in the confusion Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children 550 A TALE OF ACADIE. 55 Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. So unto separate ships were Basil .and Gabriel car- ried, While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilight Deepened and darkened around ; and in haste the ref- luent ocean 555 Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slipping 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, 560 Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean. Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the sailors. Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures ; 565 66 EVANGELINE: 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 f arm-yardj — Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milk-maid. Silence reigned in the streets ; from the church no An- gelus sounded, Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from the windows. 570 But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been kindled, Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the tempest. Bound them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered, Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the cry- ing of children. Onward from fire to fire, as- from hearth to hearth in his parish, 575 Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and cheering. Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- shore. Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her father, And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man, A TALE OF AC ABIE. 57 Haggard and hollow and wan, and without- either thought or emotion, 580 E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been taken. Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer him, Vainly offered him food ; yet he moved not, he looked not, he spake not, But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-light. ^^ Benedicite I '' murmured the priest, in tones of com- passion. 585 More he 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 pres- ence of sorrow. Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden, Eaising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above them 590 Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows 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 58 EVANGELINE: Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon the moun- tain and meadow, 595 Seizing the rocks and the rivers and piling huge shad- ows together. Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village, Gleamed on the sky and 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 quivering hands of a martyr. 600 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. Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish, 602 "We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand-Pre ! *' Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farm- yards, A TALE OF ACADIE. 59 Thinking the day had daAvned ; and anon the lowing of cattle Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs interrupted. Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleep- ing encampments ' 6io Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the Nebraska, When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of the whirlwind, Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds and the horses Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed o'er the meadows. 6i5 Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest and the maiden Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them ; And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion, Lo ! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the sea-shore Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. 620 Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden 60 EVANGELINE: Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on his bosom. Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber ; And when she awoke from the trance, she beheld a multitude near her. 625 Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing upon her. Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest com- passion. Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape, Eeddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around her, And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. eso 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 churchyard." Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by the sea-side, 635 Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches, A TALE OF ACAD IE, 61 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 congregation, Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the dirges. 64o 'Twas 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 embarking ; And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of the harbor. Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins. 645 62 EVANGELINE PAET THE SECOND. Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pre, When on the falling tide the freighted vessels de- parted, Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile. Exile without an end, and without an example in story. Ear asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed ; Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the northeast 6 Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of Newfoundland. Eriendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city, From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas, — . Erom the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Eather of Waters lo Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean, Deep in their souls to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth. Eriends they sought and homes; and many, despair- ing, heart-broken, A TALE OF AC ABIE. 63 Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a fireside. Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards. 15 Long among them was seen a maiden Trho waited and wandered, Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. Fair was she and young : but, alas I before her ex- tended, Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered before her, 20 Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and abandoned, As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked by Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sunshine. Something there was in her life incomplete, imper- fect, unfinished ; As if a morning of June, with all its music and sunshine, 25 Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly de- scended Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever within her, 64 EVANGELINE : Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the spirit. She would commence again her endless search and endeavor ; 30 Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and tombstones, Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber be- side him. Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper. Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her for- ward. 35 Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her be- loved and known him. But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. '' Gabriel Lajeunesse ! '^ they said ; ^^ Oh 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." 40 " Gabriel Lajeunesse ! " said others ; " Oh yes ! we have seen him. He is a Voyageur 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,? A TALE OF AC AD IE. 65 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. 50 For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and il- lumines the pathway. Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." Thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor, Said, with a smile, "0 daughter ! thy God thus speak- eth within thee ! Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted ; 55 If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, return- ing Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment ; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. Patience ; accomplish thy labor ; accomplish thy work of affection ! Sorrow, and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike. eo 66 EVANGELINE : Therefore accomplisli thy labor of love^ till the heart is made godlike^ Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy of heaven ! ^^ Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and waited. Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, But with its sound there was mingled a voice that • whispered, '' Despair not ! '' 65 Thus did that poor soul wander in Avant and cheerless discomfort. Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of existence. Let me essay, Muse ! to follow the wanderer's foot- steps ; — Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence. But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley : 70 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 murmur ; Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches an outlet. 75 A TALE OF ACADIE. 67 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 Mis- sissippi, Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. It was a band of exiles : a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked so 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 Ope- lousas. 85 With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father Felician. Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre 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 plumelike - 90 68 EVANGELINE: Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the current, Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand- bars Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their margin, Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of peli- cans waded. Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the river, 95 Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gar- dens. Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins and dove-cots. They were approaching the region where reigns per- petual summer. Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and citron, Sweeps with majestic curve the river aw^ay to the eastward. 100 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 direction. Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the cypress Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air A TALE OF AC ABIE, 69 Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathedrals. io6 Deathlike the silence seemed^ and unbroken^ save by the herons Home to their nests 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, no Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sus- taining 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 won- der and sadness, — Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be compassed. 115 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 ' 120 70 EVANGELINE: Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moonlight. It w.as the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a phantom. Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before 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, 125 And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure 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. 130 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 darkness ; And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. Then Evangeline slept ; but the boatmen rowed through the midnight, 135 A TALE OF AC ABIE. 71 Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat- songs, Such as they sang of old" on their own Acadian rivers, While through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the desert, Ear off, — indistinct, — as of wave or wind in the forest, Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim alligator. i4o Thus ere another noon they emerged from the shades; and before them Lay in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undula- tions Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boat- men. 145 Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia blossoms, And with the heat of noon ; and numberless sylvan islands, Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses, Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. i5o 72 EVANGELINE : Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the margin, Safely their boat was moored ; and scattered about on the greensward, Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slumbered. Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grapevine 155 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 blos- som to blossom. Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered beneath it. Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening heaven I60 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. i65 A TALE OF ACADIE. 73 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. 170 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 ; All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the sleepers. Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumber- ing maiden. 175 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, As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, '' Father Felician ! Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. 18O 74 EVANGELINE Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition ? Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my 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, — i85 '' 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 southward, 190 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 sheepfold. Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-trees ; Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens 195 A TALE OF ACADIE. 75 Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest. They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana.'' 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 landscape ; 200 Twinkling vapors arose ; and sky and water and forest 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 mo- tionless water. Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweet- . ness. 205 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, 210 76 EVANGELINE : That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. Plaintive at first were the tones and sad : then soar- ing to madness Seemed they to follow or guide the revels of frenzied Bacchantes. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lam- entation ; Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, 215 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 woodland, 220 Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neigh- boring dwelling ; — Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle. III. Near to the bank of the river, overshadowed by oaks, from whose branches Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, A TALE OF ACADIE. 77 Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, 225 Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blos- soms, Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns supported, 230 Eose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda. Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol. Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. . 235 Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine Ean near the tops of the trees ; but the house itself was in shadow. And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly ex- panding Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 78 EVANGELINE: In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway 240 Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie, Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly de- scending. 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. 245 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. 250 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 landscape. A TALE OF ACABIE. 79 Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding Eully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded 255 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 Eose 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. 260 Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the garden Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden ad- vancing to meet him. Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amaze- ment, and forward Eushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder ; When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the blacksmith. 265 Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces, 80 EVANGELINE: Laughing and weeping by turns^ or sitting silent and thoughtful. Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not ; and now dark doubts and misgivings 270 Stole o'er the maiden's heart ; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed, Broke the silence and said, " If you came by the Atchafalaya, 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 tremu- lous accent, 275 " Gone ? is Gabriel gone ? " and, concealing her face on his shoulder. All her overburdened 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. 280 Moody and restless grown, and tired and troubled, his spirit ^ Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet ex- istence. Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, A TALE OF ACADIE. 81 Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, 285 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 fugi- tive lover ; 290 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. 295 Long under Basil's ' roof had he lived like a god on Olympus, Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. '' Long live Michael," they cried, " our brave Aca- dian minstrel ! " 82 EVANGELINE: As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession ; and straightway 300 Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man Kindly and oft, and recalling tlie past, while Basil, enraptured. Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters. Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci- devant blacksmith, 305 All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor ; Much they marvelled 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 breezy veranda, 310 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 de- scended. A TALE OF ACADIK 83 All was silent without^ and, illuming the landscape with silver, Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars ; but within doors, 315 Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering lamplight. Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herdsman Poured forth his heart and his wine together in end- less profusion. Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet j^atchi- toches tobacco, Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they listened : — 320 "Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friendless and homeless. Welcome once more to a home, that is better per- chance 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 ploughshare runs through the soil, as a keel through the water. 325 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 ; 84 EVANGELINE : Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. 330 After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests, No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads. Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms and your cattle.'' Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils, While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the table, 335 So that the guests all started ; and Father Felician, astounded, Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his nostrils. But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer : — '' Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever ! For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, 340 Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell ! " Then there were voices heard at the door, and foot- steps approaching Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. A TALE OF AC ABIE. 85 It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters, Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the Herdsman. 345 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, Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, pro- ceeding 350 From the accordant strings of MichaePs melodious fiddle, Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted. All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the maddening Whirl of the giddy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music. Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of flut- tering garments. 355 Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsman Sat, conversing together of past and present and future ; While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her 86 EVANGELINE: Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness 360 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. 365 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 370 Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, As, through the garden-gate, and beneath the shade of the oak-trees. Passed she along the path to the edge of the meas- ureless prairie. Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies A TALE OF ACADIE. 87 Gleamed and floated away in mingled and infinite numbers. 375 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, 380 Wandered alone, and she cried, '' Gabriel ! my beloved ! Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me ? Ah ! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie ! Ah ! how often thine eyes have looked on the wood- lands around me ! ass Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor. Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers ! When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee ? -' Loud and sudden and near the notes of a whippoor- will sovmded 88 EVANGELINE : Like a flute in the woods ; and anon^ through the neighboring thickets, 390 Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. '^ Patience ! ^' whispered the oaks from oracular cav- erns of darkness : And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, ^^ "To-morrow! '^ Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers of the garden Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his tresses 395 With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases of crystal. " Farewell ! '' said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy threshold ; "See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and famine. And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was coming.'' " Farewell ! " answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Basil descended 400 Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sun- shine, and gladness, Swiftly they followed the* flight of him who was speed- ing before them, A TALE OF ACADIE, 89 Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the desert. Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that succeeded, 405 Found they the trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but vague and uncertain Eumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate country ; Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the garrulous landlord, 410 That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions, Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. IV. Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and lumi- nous summits. Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, like a gateway, 415 Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon. Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and Owyhee. 90 EVANGELINE : Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-river Mountains, Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska ; And to the south, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish sierras, 420 Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the desert, l^umberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the ocean. Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibrations. Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful prairies ; Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sun- shine, 425 Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas. Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roebuck ; Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of rider- less horses ; Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel ; Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children, 430 Staining the desert with blood ; and above their terrible war-trails Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, A TALE OF AC ABIE. 91 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 ; 435 Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift- running 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 Mountains, 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 overtake him. Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his camp-fire 445 Kise in the morning air from the distant plain ; but at nightfall. When they had reached the place they found only embers and ashes. 92 EVANGELINE: And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies were weary, Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished before them. 450 Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently entered Into their little camp an Indian woman, whose features. Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as her sorrow. She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her people. From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Ca- manches, 455 Where her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois, had been murdered. Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and friendliest welcome Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted among them On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions, 46o Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer and the bison, Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the quivering fire-light A TALE OF AC ABIE. 93 Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms wrapped up in their blankets, Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and repeated Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the charm of her Indian accent, 465 All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, and reverses. Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disappointed. Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compassion. Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was near her, 470 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 ; Mo wis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden, 475 But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wigwam, Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sun- shine. 94 EVANGELINE: Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into the forest. Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a weird incantation, Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was wooed by a phantom, 480 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 nevermore returned, nor was seen again by her people. Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened 485 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 sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the woodland. 49o With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whis- pers. A TALE OF AC ABIE. 95 Filled with the thoughts of lore was Evangeline's hearty but a secret, Subtle sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swallow. 495 It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of spirits Seemed to float in the air of night ; and she felt for a moment That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom. With this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom had vanished. Early upon the morrow the march was resumed ; and the Shawnee 500 Said, as they journeyed along, " On the western slope of these mountains Dwells in his little village the Black Eobe chief of the Mission. Much he 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, Evangeline answered, 505 ^^Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us ! " Thither they turned their steeds ; and behind a spur of the mountains. 96 EVANGELINE: 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. 510 Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the village, Ejielt the Black Eobe chief with his children. A crucifix fastened High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadov/ed by grapevines, Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneel- ing beneath it. This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the in- tricate arches 515 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 travellers, nearer approaching, Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the even- ing devotions. But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen 520 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 A TALE OF ACADIE. 97 Welcome ; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant expression, Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest, And, with words of kindness, conducted them into his wigwam. 525 There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the maize-ear Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the teacher. Soon was their story told; and the priest with solem- nity answered : — ^^Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes. Told me this same sad tale ; then arose and continued his journey ! '^ Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent of kindness ; But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snow-flakes Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. " Far to the north he has gone,'' continued the priest ; but in autumn, 535 When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission.'^ Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and submissive, 98 EVANGELINE: " Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted.^^ So seemed it wise and well unto all ; and betimes on the morrow, Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and companions, 540 Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mission. Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, — Days and weeks and months ; and the fields of maize that were springing Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving above her. Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and forming 545 Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squirrels. Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the maidens Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the corn-field. Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover. 550 " Patience ! '^ the priest would say ; '^ have faith, and thy prayer will be answered ! Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow, A TALE OF AC ABIE. 99 See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the magnet ; This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has planted Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's journey '^ • 555 Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, 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 here- after 560 Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe.'' So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter, — yet Gabriel came not ; Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robbin and bluebird Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted 565 Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests, 100 EVANGELINE: Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw Eiver. And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Lawrence, Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. ''' 570 When over weary ways, by long and perilous inarches, 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 sea- sons and places Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden ; — 575 Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian Missions, Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army, Kow in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremem- bered. Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; 580 Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty, A TALE OF AC A DIE. 101 Leaving behind it^ broader and deeper, the gloom and the shadow. Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o^er her forehead, Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly horizon, 585 As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. V. In" that delightful land which is washed by the Dela- ware 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 balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, 590 And the streets still reecho 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 children of Penn a home and a country. There old Eene Leblanc had died ; and when he departed, 595 102 • EVANGELINE:. Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descend- ants. 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; And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, eoo Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed en- deavor. Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncom- plaining. Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps. As from the mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning 605 EoU away, and afar we behold the landscape below us. Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets. So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below her. Dark no longer, but all illumined with love ; and the pathway Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the distance. ' 6io A TALE OF ACADIE, 103 Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image, Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, Only more beautiful made by his death-like 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; 615 He had become in 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. 620 Other hope had she none, nor wish in 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, 625 104 EVANGELINE : Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neg- lected. ISTight 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 630 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 claws but an acorn. 635 And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of September, Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the meadow. So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin. Spread to a brackish lake, the silver stream of ex- istence. A TALE OF ACADIE. 105 Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the oppressor ; 640 But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger ; — Only, alas ! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants. Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of mead- ows and woodlands ; — Now the city surrounds it ; but still, with its gateway and wicket - 645 Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seemed 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, 650 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 dis- tance. Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial. Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would enter. 106 EVANGELINE Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, de- serted and silent, ess Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden ; And she paused on her way to gather the fairest amoiig them. That the dying once more might rejoice in their fra- grance and beauty. Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by the east-wind, eeo 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 ; '^ ees And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sickness. ISToiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attend- ants. Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in silence A TALE OF AC ABIE, 107 Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing their faces, Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the roadside. 670 Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. 675 Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night time ; Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder. Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder Ean through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers, 680 And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terri- ble anguish. That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. 108 EVANGELINE: On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. Longj and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples ; 685 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, 69o That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhausted Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the darkness. Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking. Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverberations, 695 Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeeded Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint- like, " Gabriel ! my beloved ! '' and died away into silence. A TALE OF ACADIE. 109 Then lie 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, 700 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 unuttered Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken. 705 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, As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement. All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, 710 All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing. All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! 110 EVANGELINE: And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, ^' Father, I thank thee ! " Still stands the forest primeval ; but far away from its shadow. Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping. Under the humble walls of the little Catholic church- yard. In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and un- noticed. Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, 5 Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever. Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors. Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey ! Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade of its branches lo A TALE OF AC ABIE. Ill Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy ; 15 Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story. While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighbor- ing ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. LITERARY ESTIMATES OF THE POET. LOKG-FELLOW'S GOLDEN LEGEND. BlacTcwood^s Magazine, February, 1852. "No man can read six pages of The Golden Legend^ without being reminded of the Faust, and that so strongly that there is a perpetual challenge of comparison. So long as the popularity of the elder poem continues, the later one must suffer in con- sequence. *' Whether Mr. Longfellow could have avoided this, is quite another question. We confess that we entertain very great doubts as to that point. In respect of melody, feeling, pathos, and that exquisite simplicity of expression which is the criterion of a genuine poet, Mr. Longfellow need not shun comparison with any living writer. He is not only by nature a j^oet, but he has cultivated his poetical powers to the utmost. No man, we really believe, has bestowed more pains upon poetry than he has. He has studied rhythm most thoroughly; he has subjected the most beautiful strains of the masters of verbal melody, in many languages, to a minute and careful analysis; he has arrived at his poetical theories by dint of long and thoughtful investiga- tion ; and yet, exquisite as the product is which he has now given us, there is a large portion of it which we cannot style as truly original.'* 112 LITERARY ESTIMATES OF THE POET. 113 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Charles F. Richardson. " The chief value of Evangeline as a metrical experiment was limited, but great: it proved that English hexameters were best fitted for idyllic, rather than Homeric, narrative." " But Longfellow's best hexameters, in Evangeline, though representing neither the force nor the flexibility of the Greek measure of the same name, had a genuine musical beauty of their own." ESSAYS AST) REVIEWS. Edwin P. Whipple. '*His [Longfellow's] sense of beauty, though uncommonly vivid, is not the highest of which the mind is capable. He has little conception of its mysterious spirit ; — of that Beauty, of which all physical loveliness is but the shadow, which awes and thrills the soul into which it enters, and lifts the imagina- tion into regions ' to which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.' His mind never appears oppressed, nor his sight dimmed, by its exceeding glory. He feels, and loves, and creates, what is beau- tiful ; but he hymns no reverence, he pays no adoration, to the Spirit of Beauty. He would never exclaim with Shelley, * O awful Loveliness ! ' " *' The sympathies which Longfellow addresses are fine and poetical, but not the most subtle of which the soul is capable. The kindly affections, the moral sentiments, the joys, sorrows, regrets, aspirations, loves, and wishes of the heart, he has con- secrated by new ideal forms and ascriptions." 114 EVANGELINE. DEVELOPMENT OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AND LANGUAGE. Welsh. *' In extent of popularity, the central figure in American poetry. In respect of airy grace, elegance, melody, pathos, naturalness, he stands unsurpassed, if not unequalled, among the poets of the age. In scholarship, in polite culture, he must be classed among the learned; yet he has not the strong pinion to dive into the abyss of thought, or soar into the em- pyrean of speculation. He does not approach the concentra- tion and intensity of the grand masters, nor their dramatic movement and variety. He is not the bard of passion, as Byron; nor of ideality, as Shelley; nor of high contemplation, as Wordsworth; but of daily life, familiar experience, domestic affection." '' Like Hawthorne, but without his intense imagination, he had a genuine fondness for the mellow, the distant, the old. His poems indicate the region of his habitual thought, — the legendary of the Old World or the New. The man is more than his work." NOTES PROLOGUE. There is a fine, emotional quality in the prologue. It suggests the preludes of Sir ^Valter Scott to the cantos of The Lay of the Last Minstrel; it has not, however, the personal quality well suited, in- deed, to introduce ''customs and manners anciently prevailing on the Borders." The lay gives a bardic feudal picture to which its octo-syllabic measure is admirably adapted. The Evangeline prologue invests the primeval Acadian forest with a grand but idyllic dignity, while the stately hexameters in which the poem is written lend a kind of Homeric charm to the theme announced in the first two lines of the last of the three stanzas of uneven length : — " Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion.'* Acadia. This term originally embraced all the land between the sites of Philadelphia and Montreal; afterwards it was limited to New Brunswick and the adjacent islands ; now it is a synonym for Nova Scotia. Druids. Priests of Ancient Gaul and Britain. Eld. An archaic term used in poetry. Druids of eld = Druids of old. Hexameter verse consists of six feet which may be either dactyls or spondees. The dactyl consists of one accented and two unac- cented syllables. The spondee has two accented syllables. A tro- chee may take the place of a spondee. A trochee consists of an accented and an unaccented syllable, as curfew. Accented and unaccented syllables in English are the corresponding terms for long and short syllables in Greek and Latin. Hexameter, whether classi- 115 116 EVANGELINE. cal or English, employs the dactyl as the unit of rhythm ; in this verse, the fifth foot is usually a dactyl, the sixth, a spondee or trochee. English hexameter is easy to write poorly, and difficult to write with the sonorous, measured rhythm of the classical hexameter. This is because the English language has few syllables of even quan- tity which can be used contiguously. It is, therefore, in the use of the spondee, that English hexameter is conspicuously weak. As an example of a spondaic line which is particularly fine, notice the fourth verse of the first stanza of the prelude : — Stand like | harpers | hoar, with | beards that | rest on their | bosoms. Let the student, as an exercise, notice how often, in a single canto, the dactyl falls in the fifth foot. A canto of a poem is like a chapter in prose. A canto is a group of stanzas ; a chapter is a group of paragraphs. Each serves to develop one scene or a series of allied thoughts and situations. The cantos in Evangeline are indicated by Roman numerals. Longfellow was much criticised for writing Evangeline in hexa- meters. Oliver Wendell Holmes approved of the metre. The poem was published on Oct. 30, 1847. Judging from the prologue, what was the poet's favorite rhetorical figure ? Mention a Roman and an Elizabethan poet who freely em- ployed the same figure. PART THE FIRST. The first stanza of Part the First is devoted to a description of Grand-Pre, its environment and its inhabitants. The theme, Evan- geline, is introduced in the second stanza. Grand-Pre = great meadow. Basin of Minas. " A remarkable body of water in Nova Scotia, the east arm of the Bay of Fundy, penetrating sixty miles inland." " The tides here rush in with great impetuosity and form what is called the bore. At the equinoxes they have been known to rise from sixty to seventy feet." The editor found it deeply interesting to watch steamboats unload at the little towns on the Basin of Minas. Although many hands made light work, and freight was landed with NOTES. 117 great dexterity and quickness, the tide rose so rapidly that the slop- ing stationary bridges built to accommodate the water at all heights were buried many feet in the few minutes spent at each stopping- place. For an interesting episode descriptive of the tide on the Basin, read I. Zangwill's The Master. 10. Blomidon. One of the Cobequid range which runs through the interior of Nova Scotia. 15. Reign of the Henries ; i.e., in the Sixteenth Century. 20. Kirtles. A garment, whether short or long, with a skirt. — Standard Dictionary. 21. Distaffs. See Europe in the Nineteenth Century, Chap, xxviii., *' Progress of the World " (Judson). 23. Whir of the wheels. For a clear and concise account of alliteration, both as rhyme and as regards its history, read English Versification, Chap. vii. (Parsons). 30. Angelus. A devotion commemorating the Annunciation. A bell rung as in Roman Catholic custom, at morning, noon, and night, as a call to recite the angelus, or to give notice of the hour when it is recited. — Standard Dictionary. 34. Let class begin with verse 34 and read aloud to end of stanza. Notice csesural pause of verse 34. Notice how accent is thrust on locks in line 36. But their dwellings, etc., is an example of how easily hexameter may degenerate into prose. For explanation of csesural pause, see English Versification, page 71. 43. Stalworth. [Archaic] Stalwart. What beautiful metaphor in second stanza describes Benedict Belief ontaine ? 53. Hyssop. 1. A bushy herb of the mint family. 2. An un- identified plant furnishing the twigs used in the Mosaic purificatory and sacrificial rites, etc. ; thought by some to have been a species of marjoram. — Standard Dictionary. Is hyssop in the text employed literally or figuratively ? 55. Chaplet. The third part of a rosary; i.e., fifty-five beads. 55. Missal. A mass-book. 56. Norman cap. In color, white ; in shape, with a high point above the face. What verse, beautiful in sound and sense, in stanza second, sug- gests harmony between Evangeline's character and appearance ? 118 EVANGELINE, 64. Did tlie hill command the open sea ? 65. Sycamore. The buttonwood. 68. Penthouse. Shield projecting above a window or door to protect from the weather. 74. Wains. [Archaic] Wagons. 74. Antique ploughs. The plough is of great antiquity. It is mentioned in Hesiod's Works and Days. "What verse in the third stanza is prophetic of coming disaster ? In stanza fourth Basil the blacksmith is drawn with the same tenderness with which the poet portrays " The Village Blacksmith " in the poem bearing that title. Has the blacksmith classic celebrity ? 103. Plain-song. *' A name given to the ecclesiastical chant by the Church of Rome. It is an extremely simple melody, admitting only notes of equal value, rarely extending beyond the compass of an octave, and never exceeding nine notes, the staif on which the notes are placed consisting of only four lines. ... St. Ambrose is consid- ered to have been the inventor or systematiser of plainsong." — Chamhers^s Encydopsedia. 114. Who were " nuns " ? — the children or the sparks ? 120. Stone in the nest of the swallow. A pebble anciently sup- posed to be brought from the seashore by swallows, and fed to their young to make them see. — Standard Dictionary. 122. What god in Greek mythology is suggested by this line ? 125. Saint Eulalie. A saint of the Roman Church, born in Spain in 290. Both Merida and Barcelona claim her relics. History would indicate, that she was pugnacious. Of pugnacity, Longfellow probably did not think. His poetic ear was doubtless set to vibrating with the music of the saint's name. 128. How many spondees are there in this line ? Notice the poetic beauty of the names thus far introduced. Pupils should pronounce in succession, Benedict Bellefontaine, Gabriel La- jeunesse. Father Felician, Evangeline, Saint Eulalie; they should count the vowels and liquids in each of these names. What great modern French writer made sound as indicative of sense a life-long study ? Mention his two greatest novels ? Which of these was represented by a celebrated painting in the French de- partment at the World's Fair ? NOTES. 119 "What is the name of a modern school of French writers who pay great attention to the sound of words as indicative of meaning ? n. 130. And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. See Chambers's Encyclopsedia on Zodiac. See also Encyclopaedia Britannica. The Zodiac is ''an imaginary zone of the heavens, within which lie the paths of the sun, moon, and principal planets." '*It is divided into twelve signs, and marked hy twelve constella- tions." These signs are Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Aquarius, and Pisces. *' The definitive decline of the sun's power after the autumnal equinox was typified by placing a scorpion as the symbol of darkness in the eighth sign." 134. Notice the beauty of the simile. 140. Summer of All-Saints. Indian summer. Notice how per- fect the description of this season is in lines 140-151 inclusive. The repose of Indian summer is so happily suggested by lines 143-148. 151. Plane-tree. A species of sycamore. The Oriental plane- tree "was much admired, and planted both by the Greeks and Romans as an ornamental tree — no other tree, indeed, commanding equal admiration ; and for centuries the youth of Greece assembled under the shade of planes, in the groves of Academus and elsewhere, to receive lessons in philosophy." The Oriental plane-tree grows as far East as Cashmere. *'In those situations which are ^ favorable to its growth, huge branches spread out in all directions from the massive trunk, invested with broad, deeply divided, and glossy green leaves. This body of rich foliage, joined to the smoothness of the stem and the symmetry of the general growth, renders the plane-tree one of the noblest objects in the vegetable kingdom. It has now, and had also of old, the repu- tation of being the tree which most effectually excludes the sun's beams in summer, and most readily admits them in winter, thus affording the best shelter for the extren^es of both seasons. For this reason it was planted near public buildings and palaces, a practice which the Greeks and Romans adopted ; and the former delighted to adorn with it their academic walls and places of public exercise. In the East, the plane seems to have been considered sacred, as the oak 120 EVANGELINE, was formerly in Britain. This distinction is in most countries awarded to the most magnificent species of tree which it produces. ... In the celebrated story of Xerxes arresting the march of his grand army before a noble plane-tree in Lydia, that he might render honor to it, and adorn its boughs with golden chains, bracelets, and other rich ornaments, the action was misunderstood, and egregiously misre- presented by -/Elian (Var. Hist. II., 14)." — Biblical Cyclopaedia (McClintock and Strong). 153. Day -with its burden and heat had departed, etc. ; i.e., the summer had departed. 154. Brought back the evening star, etc. What would the evening star be in autumn in Nova Scotia ? 157. Foremost, bearing the beU, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, etc. Compare this description of the heifer with descriptions of the doe in AYordsworth's The White Doe of Rylstone. 169. Fetlocks. The projection of a horse's foot above the hoof; also the tuft of hair on this projection. 190. Where was Normandy ? 190. Where was Burgundy ? What great Norman is identified with the year 1066 in English history ? What great Duke of Burgundy was the contemporary of Louis XI. of France ? 192. Spinning flax for the loom. Representations of the spindle and distaff are to be seen on ancient Egyptian monuments. The simile in 196, 197, and 198 is far-fetched. Longfellow's use of the simile was excessive. 204. Settle. A long seat with an upright back and arms. It is made of wood and is sometimes cushioned. 219. Gaspereau. A river of New Brunswick. In the treaty by which the French, in 1713, ceded Acadia to England, the limits of tire territory thus named were not defined. ' ' The English claimed that Acadia ought to comprise all New Brunswick, besides the peninsula." — Edouard Richard. 230. LiOuisburg. When England and France were at war at intervals between 1689 and 1763, the colonists also took part. The first of the three intercolonial wars was ''King William's," 1689- 1697; the second was ''Queen Anne's," 1702-1713; the third was "King George's," 1744-1748. In King George's war, the French lost NOTES. 121 Louisburg on the island of Cape Breton. Louisburg at that time was called ''the Gibraltar of America." 230. Beau Sejour. See Parkman's history, The Pioneers of France in the New World. ''Beausejour, Gaspereau, Grand-Pre, Beaubassin, Port Royal, sweet-sounding names, so full of memories, so familiar a hundred and fifty years ago, exist no longer except for lovers of history and antiquarians. Patient research is needed to find the spot where stood the village of Grand-Pre." — Acadia (Edouard Richard). The hamlet of Gaspereaux is at the junction of the Gaspereaux and Salmon rivers. 230. Port Royal. For a graphic account of the founding, settle- ment, and loss of Port Royal, see Parkman's history. Port Royal was founded by Champlain and De Monts in 1605, in what is now Nova Scotia. The French lost Port Royal "in King William's war. After the burning of Schenectady by the French and Indians, the English colonists, in retaliation, organized a successful expedition against Port Royal. 242. Strongly have built them and well ; and, breaking the glebe round about them. Let class analyze grammatical construc- tion of second clause. 242. Glebe. Soil. In English history, church property in land is sometimes mentioned as glebe land. See use of this term in The Nineteenth Century (Mackenzie). 244. Inkhorn. A receptacle for ink and made of horn ; carried on the person. 247. Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had spoken. Is the comma at the end of this verse a better mark of punctuation than a semicolon would be ? III. 251. Maize. Indian corn. It is the most highly productive cereal known. It is an annual, and matures quickly. It thrives wherever the summer heat is intense. It grows in all parts of the United States, and in sheltered portions of Canada. The lands on the east- em shores of the Basin of Minas are among the most fertile and sunny in British America. 252. Glasses with horn bows. Spectacles, discovered in the 122 EVANGELINE, thirteenth century, were framed in horn or tortoise-shell till the beginning of the nineteenth century. Glasses with the horn or shell frame are now called goggles. 253. Supernal. " Of or pertaining to things above this world." 255. The rhythm in this verse is faulty. 258. What does this verse mean ? 259. Paraphrase this verse in order to show the full force of hut. With what verse does the action in this canto (III.) begin? 261. Loup-garou. Wehr-wolf; i. e., a ghost- wolf ,— a wolf in human form. 275-276. . . . Evil intention Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why then molest us? During the French and Indian war, 1754-1763, the English be- came masters of the entire country east of the Penobscot. This tract included Acadia, which, however, had been previously ceded by the treaty of Utrecht. Students interested in Acadia should read Parkman's version of their exile in Harper's Magazine^ November, 1884. Parkman justi- fies their deportation. The opposite view is taken by Edouard Richard in his interesting work, Acadia. See vol. i., chap. iv. The story of Evangeline was one of the traditions current among the Acadians after their dispersion. The Acadians sailed away from Grand-Pre on Oct. 29, 1755. Edouard Richard says: " All that vast bay, around which but lately an industrious people worked like a swarm of bees, was now deserted. In the silent villages, where the doors swung idly in the wind, noth- ing was heard but the tramp of soldiery and the lowing of cattle, wandering anxiously around the stables as if looking for their mas- ters. . . . The total amount of live-stock owned by the Acadians at the time of the deportation has been variously estimated by dif- ferent historians, or to speak more correctly, very few have paid any attention to this subject. . . . Rameau, who has made a much deeper study than any other historian of the Acadians, sets the total at 130,000, comprising horned cattle, horses, sheep, and pigs." Edouard Richard quotes the following from two contemporaries of the exiled Acadians: '* The Acadians were the most innocent and virtuous people I have ever known or read of in any history. They NOTES. 123 lived in a state of perfect equality, without distinction of rank in society. The title of ' Mister ' was unknown among them. Know- ing nothing of luxury, or even the conveniences of life, they were content with a simple manner of living, which they easily compassed by the tillage of their lands. Very little ambition or avarice was to be seen among them ; they anticipated each other's wants with kindly liberality; they demanded no interest for loans of money or other property. They were humane and hospitable to strangers, and very liberal toward those who embraced their religion. They were very remarkable for their inviolable purity of morals. ... If any dis- putes arose in their transactions, they always submitted to the de- cision of an arbitrator, and their final appeal was to their priests." — Moses de les Derniers. ** Young men were not encouraged to marry unless the young girl could weave a piece of cloth, and the young man make a pair of wheels. These accomplishments were deemed essential for their marriage settlement, and they hardly needed anything else ; for every time there was a wedding the whole village contributed to set up the newly married couple. They built a house for them, and cleared enough land for their immediate needs ; they gave them- live-stock and poultry ; and nature, seconded by their own labor, soon put them in a position to help others." — Brook Watson. 296. That a necklace of pearls was lost, etc. Is that necessary to the sense ? If not, why has the poet used it? Is the verse more or less rhythmical without the conjunction? See English Versification^ page 9 (Parsons). 308, 309. The simile in these verses conveys a vivid picture of how physical age may intensify expression. 311. Tankard. A large drinking-cup, sometimes with a cover. — Standard Dictionary . 325. "What was the game? The metaphors in 331 and 332 are among the loveliest in the whole range of Longfellow's poetry. 334. CurfeTv. Bell rung for the extinguishing of fires and lights. Supposed to have been introduced by William the Conqueror. 338. Before the time of matches, fires were carefully preserved in this way till morning. If it happened that, notwithstanding the precaution taken, the fire went out, another could be lighted only 124 EVANGELINE. by a spark struck from the friction of flint with steel, or by hot coals fetched from a neighbor's. Does verse 315 contradict verse 847 ? The custom of marriage dower is an ancient one. It existed long before the time of Solon. Among the Greeks, the dowery was settled upon the bride at the time of betrothal. Solon introduced a law to restrict the amount of a bride's dower. Plutarch gave as a reason for this law the danger the husband might suffer from loss of indepen- dence if his wife's dowery were too large. For these and further details on this interesting subject see Becker's Charicles. Dante, in enumerating the sins of Florence in the Divine Comedy^ says that her dowerless daughters remain unmarried. 350, 351. " On the days after new and full moon, the range of tide is as its maximum, and on the day after the first and third quarter at its minimum." — G. H. Darwin, University of Cambridge. Verses 356, 357, and 358 show the impressionability of sensitive youth to every passing influence. Verse 361 subtly prefigures the future, perpetual exile of Evan- geline. Does it not seem in the first stanza of IV. as though the people were met together to discuss the English ships at anchor ? This is one of $he rare instances of ambiguity in order of thought of the poet, for among Longfellow's charms is clearness. The feast of be- trothal, in the second stanza, removes, of course, from the reader's mind all possible doubt. Verse 366 is finely expressive. Compare it with some of the more vigorous ones in The Building of the Ship. 368. Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peas- ants. Notice in Longfellow's translation of Dante's Paradise, Canto II., 26, 27, 28, the use of this word as descriptive of Beatrice. " And the milkmaid singeth blithe.'' U Allegro: Milton. 369. Jocund. *' And fhe jocund rebecks sound." V Allegro: MiLTON. 385. Porch. For nearness of the porch to the orchard see lines 66,67. 386, In what respect does this verse resemble Homer ? NOTES. 125 391. Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. The fiddler's aged face glowed with the fire and animation of youth. *' Amid the strings his fingers strayed, And an uncertain warbling made, And oft he shook his hoary head. But when he caught the measure wild, The old man raised his face, and smiled ; And lighten'd up his faded eye. With all a poet's ecstasy ! " Lay of the Last Minstrel: Scott. 393. Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres. The citizens of Chartres. Le Carillon de Dunquerque. The chimes of Dunquerque. 394. Anon. Presently; soon. One appreciates the poet's art in gathering the people for the betrothal, in order to have them on the scene as well for the king's message. Harmony, repose, pathos, compose the spirit of the poem. Its gentle tenor is,not disturbed even by the bell and drum beat. 422. Solstice of summer. The 21st of June. 422-430 inclusive is a good illustration of a Virgilian simile. In Colonial times, the church or meeting-house was used for all the public purposes of a community, as well as for religious services. There trials took place, and gatherings of the people for defence or counsel. 446. Tocsin's alarum. A signal sounded on a bell. In former usage, a drum used to sound a charge. — Standard Dictionary . 447, etc. The appeal of Father Felician transports us in feeling to the millennium, or backward to the Golden Age. Acadie becomes indeed Arcadia. But strength of judgment and sternness also are in the verse : — " Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us." Notice the musical arrangement of dactyls and trochees in verse 452. 472. Emblazoned its windows. To set off with glowing colors. To adorn with heraldic designs. Emblazonry is the collective term for heraldic devices. Heraldic terms are so often employed figura- tively, as in the text of Evangeline, that the editor thinks it may be interesting and useful to both teachers and students to append a few 126 EVANGELINE. extracts from the valuable article on heraldry in the Encyclopaedia Britannica : — "'Arms,' or 'armories,' so called because originally displayed upon defensive armour, and ' coats of arms ' because formerly em- broidered upon the surcoat or camise worn over the armour, are supposed to have been first used at the great German tournaments, and to have reached England, though to a very moderate extent, in the time of Henry II. and Cceur de Lion. To ' blazon,' now meaning to describe a coat of arms, is the German 'blasen,' to blow as with the horn, because the style and arms of each knight were so pro- claimed on public occasions. The terms employed in heraldry are, however, mostly French, or of French origin. Though now matters of form and ceremonial, and subject to the smile which attaches to such in a utilitarian age, armorial bearings were once of real use and Importance, and so continued as long as knights were cased in plate, and their features thus concealed. At that time leaders were recog- nized in the field by their insignia alone, and these — both figures and colors — because identified with their fame, from personal became hereditary, were subject to certain rules of descent, and to the laws of property and the less certain rules of honour. ... "The best, if not the only absolutely safe evidence for the origin of armorial bearings, is that afforded by seals. Seals were in common use both before and after the introduction of armorial bearings, and they are not so likely as rolls of arms or monumental effigies to be the work of a later age. . . . " It is uncertain at what period armorial bearings found their way into England. The Conqueror and his successors certainly did not use them ; they do not appear upon their seals, nor are they shown upon the banners of the Bayeux tapestry. The monk of Marmontier, probably a contemporary, describes Henry I., upon the marriage of his daughter to Geoffrey of Anjou in 1122, as hanging about the bride- groom's neck a shield adorned with small golden lions, ' leonculos aureos ; ' and, making mention of a combat in which Geoffrey was engaged, he describes him as ' pictos leones praeferens in clypeo.' It is true that the number, attitude, and position of these lions on the shield are not specified ; but considering that not long afterwards two lions became the arms of Plantagenet, and so of England, this may fairly be taken as their introduction." NOTES. 127 " Coats of arms were not at first strictly hereditary, nor even always permanent in the same person." " Early bearings were usually very simple, the colors in strong contrast, and their form and outline such as could readily be distin- guished even in the dust and confusion of a battle. They are mostly composed of right-lined figures, known in heraldry as ordinaries. The favorite beast is the lion." " The earliest and most valuable records relating to English armo- rial bearings are undoubtedly the rolls of arms of the reigns of Henry III, and the first three Edwards." " The colours in heraldry are : — AzuEE, Blue, asur. Sapphire, Jupiter. Gules (rose), Red, gueules. Ruby, Mars. PURPURE, Furple, pourp re. Amethyst, Mercury. Sable, Black, sable. Diamond, Saturn. Yert (green), Green, sinople. Emerald, Venus." "The blazoning by precious stones and planets, and even by the virtues, was a foolish fancy of the heraldic writers of the sixteenth century, and applied to the arms of peers and princes." Some shields were covered with fur, others with metal, but within certain limits as to color. 478. Ambrosial. From ambrosia, the food of the gods (Greek) ; heavenly, fragrant, delicious. " But when, at length, Jove set before them all things agreeable, to wit, nectar and ambrosia, on which the gods themselves feed, a noble spirit grew in the breasts of all." — The Theogony : Hesiod. " The goddess, speaking thus, before him placed A table, where the heaped ambrosia lay. And mingled the red nectar. Ate and drank The herald Argus-queller, and, refreshed. Answered the nymph," etc. The Odyssey, Book V. Ambrosia *' was brought by doves to Jupiter, and was occasionally bestowed upon such human beings as were the peculiar favorites of the gods. Ambrosia was also used as a fragrant salve, which the goddesses employed to heighten their beauty; with which Jupiter himself anointed his locks ; and which had the property of preserv- ing bodies from corruption." — Chambers's Encyclopsedia. 128 EVANGELINE. 481. This verse unites the motive of Evangeline's nature to that of Father Felician. 487. Notice the deep religiousness of this simile. Its force is increased when one remembers that the sun was an object of worship among the most ancient Greeks under the name Helios, that it was the emblem of the Egyptian god Osiris, and that it still symbolizes to the Parsees the god of light — the good — Ahura-Mazda. 497-500. Notice the cacaphony of these verses. It would be well to read aloud the last stanza of IV. to better appreciate its beautiful rhythmical qualities. V. 555, 556. Is there a repetition of thought in refluent and fled away? 557. Waifs of the tide. Waifs may signify anything carried by the wind or by the tides of the ocean ; flotsam. Are kelp and sea- weed synonyms ? 558-561. What is the rhetorical name of the sentence contained in these verses ? 559. Define leaguer. 562-564. These verses suggest the ^neid. 577. Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- shore. "And when they escaped, then they knew that the island was called Melita. And the barbarous people shewed us no little kindness : for they kindled a fire, and received us every one, because of the present rain, and because of the cold." — Acts xxviii., 1, 2. 577. Melita. " An island in the Mediterranean, on which the ship which was carrying the apostle Paul as a prisoner to Rome was wrecked." "Melita was the ancient name of Malta, and also of a small island in the Adriatic, now called Meleda." " Each of these has found warm advocates for its identification with the Melita of Scripture." — Biblical Cyclopsedia: McClintock and Strong. 586-588. What word is ungrammatically used in this sentence? Is the sequence of tenses correct ? 592. What book of the Old Testament and what character in that book had Longfellow probably in mind ? 593-596. Is it the moon or the light which Titan-like stretches its hundred hands? NOTES, 129 "But again, from Earth and Heaven sprung three other sons, great and mighty, scarce to he mentioned, Cottus and Briareus and Gyas, children exceedingly proud. From the shoulders of these moved actively one hundred hands, not brooking approach, and to each above sturdy limbs there grew fifty heads from their shoulders." — The Theogony, Hesiod. 598. Roadstead. Places suitable for anchorage off shore, but without the shelter of a harbor. 601. Gleeds. Burning particles. 638-640. These verses are beautiful hexameters, and most poetic in thought. Let the student notice how dramatically Longfellow has brought the first half of his narration to a close. His arrangement of subject- matter is such that Part the Second becomes an obvious and neces- sary division. PART THE SECOND. 3. Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile. This is Virgilian. Anchises, the father of ^neas, when fleeing from Troy, bore in his hands the images of the household gods. "There was a story (alluded to in one of the lost tragedies of Sophocles, of which we have but a fragment) that on the night of the capture of Troy the tutelary deities departed in a body, taking their images with them." — Blackwood's Ancient Classics. The household gods of the Romans were called Penates; they were also named Lares, the two terms being synonymous. Jupiter and Juno, as protectors of domestic happiness, were Penates. Who- ever left home prayed to the Penates and Lares for a safe return. To these household gods both the hearth and table were sacred. 7. Where are the Banks of Newfoundland? 9. Savannas. Meadow-lands. 10. Father of Waters. Mississippi = Missi Sipi = the Great Water. 11. Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the Ocean. "At the mouth of the river a large delta has been 130 EVANGELINE, formed by the mud and detritus carried down by the current. This delta is intersected by a number of outlets, or water-courses, called bayous, which issue from the Mississippi, or derive from it a supply of water in time of a flood. ' The whole area of the delta,' says Dana, 'is about 12,000 square miles.'" *''The new soil deposited in one year by the Mississippi,' says Guyot, 'would cover an area of 268 square miles with the thickness of one foot.'" — LippincotVs Gazetteer. 14. Is this verse grammatically correct ? 20. Is this verse a general statement, or does it apply exclusively to the Acadians ? 32. This verse is the subject of a well-known engraving. 40. Coureurs-des-Bois. Guides. 45. The accent on the first word of this verse must be vigorous, in order to read it smoothly. 48. St. Catherine. Probably an allusion to the St. Catherine, put to death in 307 a.d. by the Emperor Maximinus, after she was tortured on a wheel. Hence St. Catherine's wheel. St. Catherine is the patron saint of girls' schools. 51, 52. True philosophy. ^^ 54-62 inclusive. In this, as in all the scenes between Father Felician and Evangeline, there is a oneness of comprehension, grow- ing out of the spirituality of their natures. 67. Shards. [Archaic] 1. A broken piece of a brittle substance. 2. Any hard, thin covering or organ. Specifically: (1) An egg-shell. (2) A wing-cover, as of a beetle. — Standard Dictionary. 68-75 inclusive. These verses are the key to the' treatment of the remainder of the story. I. of Part the Second serves as an introduc- tory canto. It is balanced by the three stanzas which precede Part the First. 76. Beautiful River. Signification of Ohio. 77. Wabash. This river forms the boundary between Illinois and Indiana for nearly two hundred miles. It enters the Ohio at the south-western extremity of Indiana. 80. Replace the first word of this verse by another pronoun which will render the meaning clearer. 84. Kith. [Obsolete.] Friends, acquaintance. Used only now in the phrase, kith and kin. NOTES, 131 86. Here we have an intimation that those two kindred spirits, Father Felician and Evangeline, had never been separated. 88. Adow^n. Poetical form. As a prefix (a) down has the force of from. 90. Chutes. A narrow channel with a free current, especially on the lower Mississippi River. — Standard Dictioiuu^y . 91. Cotton-trees. A species of poplar, valuable for its timber. 92. Lagoons. Bodies of shallow water at the mouths of rivers or connected with the sea. 93. The wimpling Avaves. A pretty alliterative picture of the calmness of the wash of the waves in a lagoon. Wimple. Ripple. 94. Pelicans. The common pelican is the size of a swan. Peli- cans fly in large flocks. " The sudden swoox3 of a flock of pelicans at a shoal of fish is a striking and beautiful sight." 96. China-tree. A shade tree indigenous to India. 101. Bayou of Plaqueniine. Part of the delta of the Mississippi. 103. Netw^ork of steel. What, probably, suggested this figure to the poet? 104. Tenebrous. Shady. This verse is composed entirely of dactyls and trochees. 105. And trailing mosses in mid-air. The long silvery gray mosses hanging in lengths of many yards from the live oaks in the cemetery of Bonaventura in Savannah, give a peculiarly solemn and cathedral-like aspect to the walks and drives under those huge trees. 107. Herons. The plumage of the heron is beautiful, though sober in color. The common heron builds its nest in lofty trees. Many varieties of this bird are numerous in the southern parts of North America. 111. Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustain- ing the arches. "The cedar proud and tall." "The cypress funereal." — Canto i.. Book I., Fairie Queen. Verses 111 and 112 complete the architectural picture of verses 105 and 106. 117. 3Iimosa. There are hundreds of species of the mimosa. Sen- sitive plants belong to this family. Some of the larger species are valuable for their timber, and attain the size of trees. 122. That is, Evangeline's view, after all, was but a phantom vision. The forebodings of her companions were true of their future. 132 EVANGELINE. 134. Notice the impressive simile in this verse. 136. Canadian. Is this word used in its modern geographical and political sense? 138. Desert. Is this word given its exact meaning ? 142. Atchafalaya. This bayou is an outlet for the Red River, and also for the Mississippi. It is navigable by steamboats. It empties into the Gulf of Mexico. 144. The lotus. Here meant for a lily. Lotus is a Greek word, and besides applying to the famous Egyptian flower, also means a plant bearing a fruit useful for food. 146. Is this verse a true hexameter ? Is it musical? 154. Cope. An arching cover. 141-158. This entire passage, if well read aloud, is euphonious and onomatopoetic. It produces the same effect obtained from read- ing aloud portions of Thomson's famous allegorical poem. The Castle of Indolence; especially those portions describing the ** pleasing land of drowsy-head." 164. Trappers. Those who trap fur-bearing animals or game. 165. Bison. "' The North American bison has light and slender hind quarters and densely shaggy fore parts. Commonly but less correctly called buffalo." — Standard Dictionary. 172. Palmettos. Any palm of the fan-shape. Here it means the cabbage-palm of the southern part of the United States. 177. Tholes. Fulcrums for the oars. 188. Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. Is this simile forcible? 191. Teche. Name of a bayou emptying into Atchafalaya bayou. The last stanza of II. is exquisite. Notice the harmony of thought in the three pictures given: "Sky and water and forest . . . melted and mingled together ; " '' the sacred fountains of feel- ing ; " " shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music." 213. Bacchantes. Women who assisted in the worship of Bac- chus. Their orgies partially consisted in frenzied dances. III. 225. Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide. The etymology of the word Druid is uncertain. The NOTES. 133 Druids were the priests of the ancient Kelts. They taught the im- mortality of the soul. Among other subjects, they studied astrology and theology. Britain was their chief resort. They held the mistle- toe in great veneration. The oak was their sacred tree. The mistle- toe, though rarely growing on oaks, as it preferred such trees as the apple or pear, was, when found on them, revered for its magical qual- ities. When discovered on the oak, it was cut with a gold knife, by a white-robed priest, and two white bulls were sacrificed at once. In Druidic language, mistletoe signified All-Heal. The mistletoe, when growing on the oak, "represented man, a creature entirely dependent on God for support, and yet with an individual existence of his own." 225. Yule-tide. AS. Geol = December. The feast of mid- winter, the Yule, was sacred to Odin. Christmas-time. 249. Sombrero. A broad-brimmed hat. Spain claimed, by right of discovery, a large portion of that part of North America included by the Southern States and the Pacific coast. It was in these regions the Spaniards made settlements. Through Napoleon's victories this section for a brief time became a French possession. In 1803, the portion then known as Louisiana, covering over a million square miles of land, and the whole length of the Mississippi, was purchased by the United States for $15,000,000. Compare 260 with 308. 279. " Be of good cheer, my child ; it is only to-day he de- parted." This is the second highly dramatic combination of cir- cumstances in the poem. Which was the first ? Notice in the future development of the story whether there is an incident much like the one in verse 279, and, if so, whether the repetition weakens the force. 288. Ozark Mountains. Hills west of the Mississippi in Arkan- sas, Missouri, and the Indian Territory. 296. Olympus. Mountain in Greece. In Greek mythology, the home of the gods. 302. While Basil, enraptured, hailed, etc. That is, those who had accompanied Father Felician and Evangeline, and who were now coming up from the boat. Among them were those carrying Michael, who had gone down to meet his former companions, and also "the mothers and daughters." 134 EVANGELINE. 305. Ci-devant. Former. 319. Natchitoches. A parish of Louisiana intersected by the Bed River. 332. King George of England. George II. Date of reign, 1727-1760. 344. It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian plant- ers. *' Creole (Spanish Criollo) is a term which primarily was used to denote an inhabitant of the Spanish colonies who was descended from the European settlers, as distinguished from the aborigines, the negroes, and mulattoes. It is now more loosely employed, the name being frequently applied to a native of the West Indies whose de- scent is partly, but not entirely, European. A part of the colored l^opulation of Cuba are at times designated Creole negroes, in con- tradistinction to those who were brought direct from Africa. The Creole whites, owing to the enervating influence of the climate, ar^ not a robust race, but exhibit an elegance of gait and a suppleness of joint that are rare among Europeans." — Eiicyclopsedia Britain- nica. 360. Heard she the sound of the sea, etc. Interpret this sen- tence. 366-368 inclusive. The personification, metaphor, and simile are equally beautiful. These three verses are a fair illustration of the statement sometimes made that true poetry is the highest possible form of human speech, as in i)oetry the fullest thought can be packed into the briefest space. 379. Upharsin. Divided. Paraphrased, as in the Bible, Dan. V. 5-25, it means, "Thy kingdom is divided." It would seem as though Longfellow must have used this term primarily for its musical sound, and secondarily, with some thought of the dispersion of the Acadians, and possibly as prophetic of the blight soon to settle on Evangeline's hope and search. 389. Loud and sudden and near the notes of a whippoorwill sounded. According to common superstition, it is a bad omen to hear a whippoorwill. To offset this, the i)oet adds the whisper of the oaks and the sigh of the meadow, which is a skilful way of express- ing Evangeline's pathetic self-encouragement. 395. Explain the figure. 396. Explain vases of crystal. NOTES, 135 IV. The first stanza of IV. is a general description of the country immediately west and east of the Rocky Mountains, and the sections south of this region. Its very vagueness, while bearing an air of precision, is good art. 427. Roebuck. "^The male of the roe-deer, a small deer of Europe and AYestern Asia." As Longfellow did not visit the scenes of Evangeline previously to writing the poem, he doubtless, in this instance, furnished the West with an animal suiting his fancy. He may have had in mind the Wapiti or American Elk, or the Antelope of the Kocky Mountains. 430. Ishmael's children. Meant here for nomadic Indian tribes. Ishmael was the son of Abraham and Hagar. Ishmael was not, as has been commonly supposed, the founder of the Arabian nation, for the Arabs existed before he was born. On his expulsion by Abra- ham, he joined the Arabs, adopting their nomadic habits, and event- ually became the father of an important division of that people. Hence the term Ishmael has become synonymous with nomadic or wandering. 437. Anchorite monk. The term anchorite means one who has withdrawn from society. Anchorite monks were numerous in the Eastern church. They chose the wildest and most secluded local- ities, and were exceedingly austere in their habits, exposing them- selves, scantily clad, to the roughest weather, and living on poor and meagre food. 439. Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. A majestic simile. 449. Fata 3Iorgana. A mirage peculiar to the Strait of Messina. 454, 455. The Shawnee Indians are a north-eastern tribe. The Camanches belong to the central plains of North America. 474. And repeated the tale of the Mowis* The legend suggests the story of Cupid and Psyche. For a beautiful poetical version of the Greek myth see The Earthly Paradise (Morris). 478-484 inclusive. These verses are as musical as some of Poe's famous lines. No scene in the whole narrative better fits the ideas of remoteness and semi-human possibilities belonging to the aroma of true poetry than the one depicted in 472-498. 136 EVANGELINE, 510. Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mission. In The Jesuits in North America, the historian Park- man says, in speaking of Brebenf and his associates : "Their patience, their kindness, their intrepidity, their manifest disinterestedness, the hlamelessness of their lives, and the tact which, in the utmost fervors of their zeal, never failed them, had won the hearts of these way- ward savages ; and chiefs of distant villages came to urge that they would make their abode with them. As yet, the results of the mis- sion had been faint and few ; but the priests toiled on courageously, high in hope that an abundant harvest of souls would one day reward their labors." This was in 1635. 517. Notice the alliteration in soft susurrus and sighs. 524. Hearing, etc. What preposition is understood before hear- ing? 533, 534. Interpret the simile. Compare some of Longfellow's best similes and metaphors with those of George Eliot in Silas Marner {Students^ Series of English Classics). 551-561. The gentle didacticism of the priest is so poetically expressed that even those critics whose creed is "Art for Art's sake " could hardly reject this intrusion, if it indeed be such. 564. Wold. A tract of slightly hilly country, usually un wooded. 576. Moravian 3Iissions. The Moravians trace their origin to the followers of John Huss. They are Lutherans in their essential belief. Almost from the beginning of their history they were mis- sionaries. Their first mission was established at St. Thomas, one of the West Indies, in 1732. 580-586. These verses mark the transition to the conclusion of the poem. Is the beautiful metaphor in 585 weakened by xihe simile in the following verse ? V. 592. Dryads. Wood-nymphs. 611-620 inclusive. Notice that every verse in this passage, which is descriptive of Evangeline's love for Gabriel as one lost on earth to be found in heaven, begins with a dactyl. It therefore embodies a twofold harmony, — the harmony of technique and the harmony of one fully developed thought. NOTES, 137 638, 639. Analyze the meaning of these verses. 674. And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler. ''The Angel of Death is the invisible Angel of Life." — Henry Mills Alden. 676. 3Iany familiar forms had disappeared in the night time. One of the harrowing incidents to those who lose their dear ones in hospitals is that, when death occurs in the night, the bodies are at once removed. The climax of the poem is reached in stanza fourth of Canto V. Longfellow's warm human sympathies are manifested in this conclu- sion ; for Evangeline might have been drawn to a close with the pas- sage included in 611-620. All that follows after stanza fourth merely serves to relax the ten- sion of feeling on the part of the reader. It is like the benediction after a sermon which has stirred a soul to the depths. It serves also to connect the end with the beginning, and thus complete the Acadian frame of a picture in ten cantos. Again, the three final stanzas har- monize with the three stanzas of the prologue, but with a reversal of arrangement, as befits the need of the poem. LITERATURE. ENGLISH LITERATURE, Of our popular list of classics the editor of the Christian TJmon recently said: '* We cannot speak too highly of the Studerrts* Series of English Classics ^^'^ There are nearly thirty books now out and in preparation, and it is only necessary to read the list of our editors to gain an intelligent idea of the character of the work done. 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