Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his childhood;
Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them, 1365
Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under their shadow,
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 1370
Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken.
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. 1375
All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the
sorrow,
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied
longing,
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to
her bosom,
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, “Father,
I thank thee!” 1380
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 churchyard,
In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed.
Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside
them, 1385
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 1390
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; 1395
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, neighboring
ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail
of the forest.
PICTURES
Perry Pictures helpful in the Study of Evangeline:
Christ Church, Boston, 1357; The Sheepfold, 3049;
The Blacksmith, 887;
Evangeline, 23; The Wave, 3197; Spring, 484; Pasturage
in the Forest, 506;
Sheep-Spring, 757; Milking Time, 601; Angelus, 509;
Haymaker’s Rest, 605;
Landscape, 490; Priscilla Spinning, 3298; Shoeing
the Horse, 908; Henry
Wadsworth Longfellow, 15; Priscilla, 1338; Autumn,
615; September, 1071;
Deer by Moonlight, 1005; Winter Scene, 27-B.