Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the head-stones Garlands of autumn-leaves, and evergreens fresh from the forest. Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangour Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement— Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar, Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders. D Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness, Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper house-roofs, Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their inclosures ; So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker. Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the doorway. Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted— "Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance! Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests!" More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people; Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you? Forty years of my life have I laboured among you, and taught you, Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another! Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them !'” Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded that passionate outbreak ; And they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them!” Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar. Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people responded, Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated, Rose on the ardour of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven. Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides Wandered, wailing, from house to house, the women and children. flowers; There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy; And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of the farmer. Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial meadows. Ah on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended- Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the women, As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed, |