"For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father;
Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and gladness
Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it."

IV.

Grand-Pré.

Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor.

Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous abor Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the

morning.

Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighboring hamlets,

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young

folk

Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous meadows,

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in

the greensward,

Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the

highway.

Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced.

Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at the house-doors

Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossipped together,

"Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighboring hamlets,

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants."

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and

feasted;

gether,

All things were held in common, and what one had was

another's.

Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant:

For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father; Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome

and gladness

Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it.

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, Bending with golden fruit, was spread the feast of be

trothal.

There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated;

There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the

beehives,

Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats.

"Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows."

Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-white

Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the

fiddler

Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers.

Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de Dun

kerque,

And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;

Olk folk and young together, and children mingled among them.

Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter!

Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith !

So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons

sonorous

Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat.

Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard,

"Without, in the churchyard,

head-stones

Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forests."

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

clangor

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 he will of the diers.

Then apruse tueir commander, and spake from the steps of the altar,

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal com

mission.

"You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's

orders.

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

Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous.

Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch;

Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds

Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province

Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell

there

Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people! Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's pleasure!"

As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer, Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones

Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his windows,

Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from the 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