Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence. Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that were springing. Blessings. Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk. chills.Gray was wearing a thin padded jacket and leather armor, and his body was a little stiff.He moved his hands and feet first to let his body get used to it There were haystacks everywhere near the village, many of which had been piled up for a long time . Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass grows. Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand. Soon was the game begun. Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their margin. Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the blacksmith, Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fireside:. Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa. Prosody and its Relationship to the Divine in Longfellow's "The Day is Done". When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide. Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer. The merry lads of the villageStrongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe round about them,Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelvemonth.Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and inkhorn.Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our children? More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and children.". Then it chanced in a nobleman's palace, That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a suspicion. Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the altar. With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. Then Elizabeth said, Lo! Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. The speaker holds the blacksmith in high esteem as a hard worker, faithful man, loving father, devoted husband, and worthy friend. to follow the wanderer's footsteps;. So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin. Gabriel was not forgotten. With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches. Lucas. Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them! "Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer:"Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields,Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the ocean,Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's cannon.Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sorrowFall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract.Built are the house and the barn. is Gabriel gone?" It was a pleasure to breathe the fragrant air of the forest; It was a pleasure to live on that bright and happy May morning! For her shy looks, and her careless words, and her evil surmisings. Which, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard,Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal.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.Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-whiteHair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddlerGlowed 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 Dunkerque,And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music.Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dancesUnder the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;Old 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! Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle. "Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest; "but in autumn, When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission. "Down with the tyrants of England! Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. Metaphors: An object in, or the subject of, a poem is described as being the same as another otherwise unrelated object. 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. Breaking his way through clouds that encumbered his path in the heavens, Joseph was seen with his sled and oxen breaking a pathway. On the other hand, figurative language creates meaning by comparing one thing to another thing. Oxymoron is a figure of speech in which two opposite ideas are joined to create an effect. A breath from the region of spiritsSeemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a momentThat, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom.With this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom had vanished. And he saw the Blessed Vision "So seemed it wise and well unto all; and betimes on the morrow,Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and companions.Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mission. Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons. Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsmanSat, conversing together of past and present and future;While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within herOlden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the musicHeard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadnessCame o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden.Beautiful was the night. Early upon the morrow the march was resumed; and the Shawnee, Said, as they journeyed along,"On the western slope of these mountains. God grant you may dwell there. The blossoms of passion,Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance,But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly.Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafterCrown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe.". Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pr; While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn. The Blacksmith is Florens 's lover, Malaik 's caretaker, and a contractor for Jacob. Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. Then would they say,"Dear child! Anon from the belfry, Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village. With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with emotion. Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children; And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable. All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver. The merry lads of the village. Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. Zeeshan Amir. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's ballad, "The Village Blacksmith," was first published in a New York Magazine, The Knickerbocker, in 1840. Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean,Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public;Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hungOver his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with horn bowsSat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal.Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundredChildren's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch tick.Four long years in the times of the war had he languished a captive,Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the English.Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion,Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike.He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children;For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest,And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses,And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who unchristenedDied, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children;And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable,And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a nutshell,And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and horseshoes,With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village.Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith,Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand,"Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in the village,And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their errand. On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. Alas! Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the tempest. "Gabriel Lajeunesse!" Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction,. Also a simile between the comparison of his daughters voice to his wifes voice . "Patience!" be of good cheer! And as we talked on the way he told me of thee and thy homestead. Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders, Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence. Appreciation of the poem The Village Blacksmith, , Village Blacksmith is a thought provoking poem that talks about lives of working, class men. Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson. Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside. Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever. Wishing to strengthen thy hand in the labors of love thou art doing., And Elizabeth answered with confident voice, and serenely. Lo! 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. In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate rain fall. Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grapevine. Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones. others. Meanwhile Hannah the housemaid had closed and fastened the shutters, Spread the cloth, and lighted the lamp on the table, and placed there, Plates and cups from the dresser, the brown rye loaf, and the butter. Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branchesDwells another race, with other customs and language.Only along the shore of the mournful and misty AtlanticLinger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exileWandered back to their native land to die in its bosom.In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy;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, neighboring oceanSpeaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. what madness has seized you? In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard. Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought him, And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly continued:, "Four days now are passed since the English ships at their anchors. His hair is crisp, and black, and long; His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. "Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils,While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the table,So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded,Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to his nostrils.But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer:"Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever!For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate,Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell! Behind him. Week in, week out, from morn till night,You can hear his bellows blow;You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,With measured beat and slow,Like a sexton ringing the village bell,When the evening sun is low. Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. 'T was the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean,With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying landward.Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of embarking;And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of the harbor,Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village in ruins. Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow, And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding. Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the highway. Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together. Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains. what madness has seized you?Forty years of my life have I labored 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?Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane itThus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?Lo! After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests. said others; "O yes! Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation; Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops. In each one. Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by emotion, "Gabriel!" No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads, Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms and your cattle.". "Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. I have sent him away with a hamper of food and of clothing. Alike were they free from. Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand. And of the prairie; whose numberless herds were his who would take them; Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise. Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience! Under the Sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse. "Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining the arches. The Village Blacksmith : Under a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he ; With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy threshold; "See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and famine, And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was coming. Then Elizabeth told her story again to John Estaugh,Going far back to the past, to the early days of her childhood;How she had waited and watched, in all her doubts and besetmentsComforted with the extendings and holy, sweet inflowingsOf the spirit of love, till the voice imperative sounded,And she obeyed the voice, and cast in her lot with her peopleHere in the desert land, and God would provide for the issue. Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim alligator. 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