Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and beaver. Thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor. Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn. How soon the night overtakes us! "Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps approachingSounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda.It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters,Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the Herdsman.Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors:Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were as strangers,Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other,Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together.But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceedingFrom the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle,Broke up all further speech. Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven? Then Elizabeth said, not troubled nor wounded in spirit,So is it best, John Estaugh. But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen. she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with. ", Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public,. Only Hannah the housemaid was busy in clearing the table. Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. While in their little hands they clasped some fragments of playthings. Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted,Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges.Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith,And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him."Welcome!" Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight descending. Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around her. Now went on as of old the quiet life of the homestead. Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. Behind him. Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures; Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from their udders; Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farm-yard,. Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle. All who fled from the cold, exultant, laughing at winter! But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him. Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper. Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges. 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 deathlike silence and absence.Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not.Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured;He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent;Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others,This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her.So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices,Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma.Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to followMeekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour.Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequentingLonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city,Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight,Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected.Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeatedLoud, 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 suburbsPlodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market,Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchings. ", Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded. Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mission. Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests! Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair, Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the dresser. "Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel! Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuver, Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the king-row. Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie. "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! All sounds were in harmony blended.Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm-yards,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 sunLooked 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 forestFlashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels. "Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders. Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn-loft. While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles. Tarry awhile behind, for I have something to tell thee. and, concealing her face on his shoulder,All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented.Then the good Basil said,and his voice grew blithe as he said it,"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed.Foolish boy! Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe.". what madness 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 another!Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations?Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane itThus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?Lo! She, too, would bring to her husband's house delight and abundance. Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country. Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose, Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor. thy God thus speaketh within thee!Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted;If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returningBack 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.Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made godlike,Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy of heaven! But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted. Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people! He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest. As in the farm-house kitchen, that served for kitchen and parlor, By the window she sat with her work, and looked on a landscape. Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it. how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around me!Ah! Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laughter. "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-flakesFall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. 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. Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed o'er the meadows. Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me, When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal. "And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies,Wandered alone, and she cried,"O Gabriel! 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! Out of our upper windows in Rotherhithe Street in the Borough. Saw she slowly advancing. 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!" "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember,Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of JusticeStood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand,And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presidedOver the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people.Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance,Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine 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 mightyRuled with an iron rod. Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered. The calm and the magical moonlightSeemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longing;As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade of the oak-trees,Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie.Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-fliesGleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers.Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens,Shone on the eyes of man who had ceased to marvel and worship,Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple,As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin. When I was still a child, how we sat in the silent assembly. Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the Nebraska. "What is this that ye do, my children? Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids. Dwelt on his goodly acres: and with him, directing his household. in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion!Hark! Then came the evening service. "Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer:"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 sorrowFall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract.Built are the house and the barn. Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated. Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than the old one! Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of Newfoundland. Long under Basil's roof had he lived like a god on Olympus. Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight. Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock. There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs and the harrows; There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio, Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the selfsame. Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors. But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions. Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended. While her mistress went on: The house is far from the village; We should be lonely here, were it not for Friends that in passing, Sometimes tarry oernight, and make us glad by their coming.. Sped in his bashful wooing with homely Hannah the housemaid; For when he asked her the question, she answered, Nay; and then added, But thee may make believe, and see what will come of it, Joseph.. Such were the words of the priest. Mindful not of herself, but bearing the burdens of others, Always thoughtful and kind and untroubled; and Hannah the housemaid. And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands. It was the month of May. Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction,. Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city,Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wild pigeons,Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn.And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of 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 existence.Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the oppressor;But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger;Only, alas! Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the herons. Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a secret. with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast congregation. And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested. Then amid his exaltation,Loud the convent bell appalling,From its belfry calling, calling,Rang through court and corridorWith persistent iterationHe had never heard before.It was now the appointed hourWhen alike in shine or shower,Winters cold or summer's heat,To the convent portals cameAll the blind and halt and lame,All the beggars of the street,For their daily dole of foodDealt them by the brotherhood;And their almoner was heWho upon his bended knee,Rapt in silent ecstasyOf divinest self-surrender,Saw the Vision and the Splendor. "Welcome, Basil, my friend! As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning. Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. Meanwhile Hannah the housemaid had closed and fastened the shutters, Spread the cloth, and lighted the lamp on the table, and placed there, Plates and cups from the dresser, the brown rye loaf, and the butter. Away, like children delighted,All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the maddeningWhirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music,Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering garments. Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset. Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests. Unto me! whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of darkness:And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To-morrow!". As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar! 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 sombreroGazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master.Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were grazingQuietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshnessThat uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape.Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expandingFully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resoundedWildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening.Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattleRose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean.Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie,And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance.Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the gardenSaw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him.Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forwardRushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder;When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the blacksmith.Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden.There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answerGave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces,Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful.Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivingsStole 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?