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That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and
pass over. Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit
exhausted Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths
in the darkness, Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking
and sinking. Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied
reverberations, Heard he that cry of pain, and through the bush
that succeeded Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and
saint-like, Gabriel ! O my beloved !” and died away into
silence. Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home
of his childhood; Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among
them, Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walk
ing under their shadow, As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in
his vision. Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted
his eyelids, Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt
by his bedside. Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the
accents unuttered Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what
his tongue would have spoken. Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling
beside him, Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her
bosom. Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly
sank into darkness, As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are
Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their
kirtles of homespun, And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's
story, While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced
neighbouring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the
wail of the forest.
THE SPIRE OF STRASBURG CATHEDRAL.
Night and storm. LUCIFER, with the Powers of the dir,
trying to tear down the Cross.
HASTEN! hasten !
O, we cannot !
Laudo Deum verum !
Lower! lower !