Read "Rose a Charlitte" by Marshall Saunders online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
"Below me winds the river to the sea, On whose brown slope stood wailing, homeless maids; Stood exiled sons; unsheltered hoary heads; And sires and mothers dumb in agony. The awful glare of burning homes, where free And happy late they dwelt, breaks on the shades, Encompassing the sailing fleet; then fades, With tumbling roof, upon the night-bound sea. How deep is hope in sorrow sunk! How harsh The stranger voice; and loud the hopeless wail! Then silence came to dwell; the tide fell low; The embers died. On the deserted marsh, Where grain and grass stirred only to the gale, The moose unchased dare cross the Gaspereau. " J. F. HERBIN.
An extraordinary change came over the aged woman at Agapit's words. Some color crept to her withered cheeks. She straightened herself, and, no longer leaning on her cane, said, in a loud, firm voice, to Vesper, "The Acadiens were not all stolen from Annapolis at the derangement. Did you think they were?"