That to the world are children; Than reaches the trunks below. Come to me, O ye children, What the birds and the winds are singing For what are all our contrivings, Ye are better than all the ballads For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead. SANDALPHON. HAVE you read in the Talmud of old, How, erect, at the outermost gates With his feet on the ladder of light, The Angels of Wind and of Fire With the song's irresistible stress; But serene in the rapturous throng, With eyes unimpassioned and slow, To sounds that ascend from below ; From the spirits on earth that adore, And he gathers the prayers as he stands, And beneath the great arch of the portal, It is but a legend, I know,- Of the ancient Rabbinical lore; But haunts me and holds me the more. When I look from my window at night, All throbbing and panting with stars, And the legend, I feel, is a part EPIMETHEUS; OR THE POET'S AFTERTHOUGHT. HAVE I dreamed? or was it real, What I saw as in a vision, When to marches hymeneal, In the land of the ideal, Moved my thought o'er field Elysian? What are these the guests whose glances Seemed like sunshine gleaming round me; These the wild, bewildered fancies, That with dithyrambic dances, As with magic circles, bound me? Ah! how cold are their caresses! O my songs! whose winsome measures Fair they seemed, those songs sonorous, Like the wild birds singing o'er us Disenchantment! Dis-illusion! Not with steeper fall nor faster, Icarus fell with shattered pinions. Sweet Pandora! dear Pandora! If to win thee is to hate thee? No, not to hate thee! for this feeling Is but passionate appealing, O'er the chords of our existence. Him whom thou dost once enamour, Weary hearts by thee are lifted, Struggling souls by thee are strengthened, Clouds of fear asunder rifted, Truth from falsehood cleansed and sifted, Lives, like days in summer, lengthened. Therefore art thou ever dearer, For thou makest each mystery clearer, When thou fillest by heart with fever! Muse of all the Gifts and Graees ! NOTES. NOTE 1. Acadie, home of the happy. Page 9. [So much of the interest of this charming poem is derived from the very foundation of the narrative, the simple dignity and earnestness of the characters, and the deep religious tone by which it is pervaded, that the publisher of the present edition conceives it may be acceptable to the reader to give the historical fact which has inspired so exquisite an ideal picture. There are many, doubtless, who have never read the cruel story, and such will be glad to see it in a few words, condensed from the best authority on the subject. The historical accuracy of the poem enhances its beauty. The fact as given by Haliburton, in his "History of Nova Scotia," is, in brief, as follows: Some dispute existing between the English and the French governments respecting the territorial limits of either, to settle the matter, the region about Hudson's Bay, and the province of Acadie, since called Nova Scotia, were, in 1713, ceded to Great Britain. Acadie was inhabited by an excellent French population. When these good people found their country yielded to England, and themselves no longer subjects of the French king, they were grieved to be forced to acknowledge another master. They knew that the French and English were hostile to each other, and they dreaded to be compelled, some time or other, to take up arms against Frenchmen; they therefore entreated the English that they might never be forced to so painful a service, and might be excused from taking the oath of allegiance. This request received no special attention, but, for a time, a kind forbearance was exercised toward them. After a period of forty years the English government came to the conclusion that these neutral French, as they were called, might become dangerous to its interests, by taking part with the Canadian French, its active enemies. On account of this presumed danger, without the least alleged provocation, or the least show of justice, the English government took upon itself to drive out of their possessions this peaceable, prosperous, and unoffending people. The Acadians had no warning of their fate. At harvest-time they were ordered to assemble in a certain district, and being collected, were informed they were prisoners, that their lands, cattle, and moveables were no longer their own, but were confiscated by government,-that they might take what they could convey away, but must immediately quit the province. In one single district, two hundred and fifty-five houses, as many barns, eleven mills, and one church were destroyed. Ships were in readiness to convey the persecuted Acadians to different parts of the continent,-to Louisiana, to French Guiana in South America, and to distant places in the then British provinces on the Atlantic. These people had been remarkable for their industry, their skilful husbandry, their pure morals, and their exemplary piety. Their lands produced wheat and corn, potatoes and flax abundantly. Their houses were convenient, and furnished with all things necessary to comfort. Their numerous flocks afforded the wool which was manufactured in the family for their clothing; they had no paper-money, and little silver or gold, and lived by simple exchange. So little contention rose among them, that courts and lawyers were needless; the wise and experienced decided their small differences. They were Catholics; the priests drew up their public |