Evangeline a Tale of Acadie by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Printed From
Evangeline A Tale of Acadie By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow printed from www.mainehistory.com This is the forest primeval. The murmur- PART THE FIRST ing pines and the hemlocks, I Bearded with moss, and in garments green, In the Acadian land, on the shores of the indistinct in the twilight, Basin of Minas, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad Distant, secluded, still, the little village of and prophetic, Grand-Pre Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows rest on their bosoms. stretched to the eastward, Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep- Giving the village its name, and pasture voiced neighboring ocean to flocks without number. Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had the wail of the forest. raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated This is the forest primeval; but where seasons the flood-gates are the hearts that beneath it Opened, and welcomes the sea to wander Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the at will o’er the meadows. woodland the voice of the hunts- West and south there were fields of flax, man? and orchards and cornfields Where is the thatch-roofed village, the Spreading afar and unfenced o’er the plain; home of Acadian farmers,-- and away to the northward Men whose lives glided on like rivers that Blomindon rose, and the forests old, and water the woodlands, aloft on the mountains Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflect- Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from ing an image of heaven? the mighty Atlantic Waste are those pleasant farms, and the Looked on the happy valley, but ne’er farmers forever departed! from their station descended.
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