Evangeline

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks Bearded withmoss and in garments green indistinct in the twilight Stand like Druids ofeld with... » 

THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks Bearded withmoss and in garments green indistinct in the twilight Stand like Druids ofeld with voices sad and prophetic Stand like harpers hoar with beards thatrest on their bosoms. Loud from its rocky caverns the deepvoiced neighboringocean Speaks and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. Thisis the forest primeval but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped likethe roe when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman? Where is thethatchroofed village the home of Acadian farmers Men whose lives glided onlike rivers that water the woodlands Darkened by shadows of earth butreflecting an image of heaven? Waste are those pleasant farms and the farmersforever departed Scattered like dust and leaves when the mighty blasts ofOctober Seize them and whirl them aloft and sprinkle them far oer the ocean.Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of GrandPri. Ye whobelieve in affection that hopes and endures and is patient Ye who believe inthe beauty and strength of womans devotion List to the mournful traditionstill sung by the pines of the forest List to a Tale of Love in Acadie homeof the happy. «