Explore "Rose a Charlitte" by Marshall Saunders on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"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?"