Evangeline: a Tale of Acadie

Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks, from whose branches / Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, / Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, / Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden / Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blossoms, / Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers / Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. / Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns supported, / Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda, / Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. / At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, / Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol, / Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. / Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine / Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow, / And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding / Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. / In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway / Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie, / Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. / Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas / Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the tropics, / Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grapevines.

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 sombrero / Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master. / Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were grazing / Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness / That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape. / Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding / Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded / Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening. / Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle / Rose 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 garden / Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him. / Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forward / Rushed 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 answer / Gave 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 misgivings / Stole 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? " / Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed. / Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous accent, / "Gone? is Gabriel gone? " 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! he has left me alone with my herds and my horses. / Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spirit / Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. / Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, / Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, / He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, / Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him / Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. / Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains, / Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. / Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; / He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him. / Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the morning / We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison."