Streamed through the windows, and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden [ocean. Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the 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. 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 moon light Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. IV. Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pré. Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, Where the ships, with their wavering shadows were riding at anchor. Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labour Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. [ing hamlets, Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighbourCame 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, 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. Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. waistcoats. Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons sonorous Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the church-yard, [stones Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the head- Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their inclosures; So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker, Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the doorway, Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith, "Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance! [harvests!" Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our 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, Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father 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 Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you? Forty years of my life have I laboured among you and taught you, Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? them!' Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar. [ponded, Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people resNot with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated, Rose on the ardour 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. There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women, Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lingered. All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by emotion, "Gabriel!" cried she aloud with tremulous voice; but no answer Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the living. Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father. Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood the supper untasted, [terror. Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber, In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the window. Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he created! [heaven; Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of 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. Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, Came from the neighbouring hamlets and farms the Acadian women, Driving in ponderous wains their 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 woodland. Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, While in their little hands they clasped some fragments of play things. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beach Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. [sion Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy proces Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country, Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and way-worn, So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. Foremost the young men came; and raising together their voices, Sang they with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions:"Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain! Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience!" Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that stood by the way side, [them Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine above 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,Calm and sadly waited, until the procession approached her, As 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 shoulder, and whispered, "Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one another, Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen!" [father Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her 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 weary heart in his bosom. But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him, Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed not. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession. There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking. Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion Wives torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. 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 refluent ocean All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them, |