But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he answered,—­ 850
“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, 855
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 860
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; 865
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 motionless water. 
Filled was Evangeline’s heart with inexpressible sweetness. 870
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 875
That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. 
Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad; then soaring to madness
Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. 
Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low, lamentation;
Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, 880
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, 885
Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring dwelling;—­
Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle.

SECTION III.