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EVANGELINE,

A TALE OF ACADIE

1847.

VOL II.

1

EVANGELINE.

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,

Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,

Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.

Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighbouring ocean

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate- answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it

Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman ?

Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,—

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?

Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!

Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle

them far o'er the ocean.

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Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful vil. lage of Grand-Pré.

Ye who believe. in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,

Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,

List to the curnful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;

List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy..

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