Evangeline: a tale [in verse]. |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 7
Page 45
... gazed from the window she saw serenely the moon pass Forth from the folds of a cloud , and one star follow her footsteps , As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wan- dered with Hagar ! IV . PLEASANTLY rose next morn the sun on the ...
... gazed from the window she saw serenely the moon pass Forth from the folds of a cloud , and one star follow her footsteps , As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wan- dered with Hagar ! IV . PLEASANTLY rose next morn the sun on the ...
Page 69
... gazed at the flickering fire - light . " Benedicite ! " murmured the priest , in tones of compassion . More he fain would have said , but his heart was full , and his accents Faltered and paused on his lips , as the feet of a child on a ...
... gazed at the flickering fire - light . " Benedicite ! " murmured the priest , in tones of compassion . More he fain would have said , but his heart was full , and his accents Faltered and paused on his lips , as the feet of a child on a ...
Page 72
... Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them ; And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion , Lo ! from his seat he had fallen , and stretched abroad on the sea - shore Motionless lay his form ...
... Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them ; And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion , Lo ! from his seat he had fallen , and stretched abroad on the sea - shore Motionless lay his form ...
Page 79
... the fever within her , Urged by a restless longing , the hunger and thirst of the spirit , She would commence again her endless search pna endeavour Sometimes in churchyards strayed , and gazed on the crosses EVANGELINE . 79.
... the fever within her , Urged by a restless longing , the hunger and thirst of the spirit , She would commence again her endless search pna endeavour Sometimes in churchyards strayed , and gazed on the crosses EVANGELINE . 79.
Page 80
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Sometimes in churchyards strayed , and gazed on the crosses und tombstones , Sat by some nameless grave , and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest and she longed to slum- ber beside him ...
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Sometimes in churchyards strayed , and gazed on the crosses und tombstones , Sat by some nameless grave , and thought that perhaps in its bosom He was already at rest and she longed to slum- ber beside him ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Acadian Acadie accents aloft anon answer art thou Author of Voices barns Basil the blacksmith beauty behold BELFRY OF BRUGES blossom cattle cheer darkness descended desert door dwellings Evangeline stood Evangeline's heart Executive Government exile eyes face farm-yard farmer Father Felician flocks flowers footsteps forest Gabriel garden gazed gleamed golden Government of France hand heard heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW herds herdsman horses Hyperion labour LAMARTINE land LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS light lips LONGFELLOW'S Loud maiden meadows meek morning myste neighbouring night notary notary public o'er ocean Ozark mountains passed Patience paused POEMS prairies priest river roofs rose sang shade shadow ships shore silent Sister of Mercy slowly slumber snow-white sorrow soul sound spake sunshine Super-royal 32mo sweet tale thee thou thought tide Unto village of Grand-Pré waited wander weary whispered wind woodlands words
Popular passages
Page 8 - 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?
Page 56 - Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!
Page 7 - 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.
Page 151 - All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Page 15 - When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.
Page 137 - Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty, Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the shadow. Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her forehead, Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly horizon, As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning.
Page 53 - 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...
Page 78 - Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the northeast Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of Newfoundland. Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city, From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas, — From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father of Waters Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean, Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth.
Page 21 - Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings; Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow!
Page 15 - Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop . Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them...