Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the king-row. Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure, Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. Thus passed the evening away. Anon the bell from the belfry Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the household. Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door-step Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the hearth-stone, E Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her chamber. Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its clothes press Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully folded This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband in marriage, Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a housewife. Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant moonlight Streamed through the windows, and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. shadow. Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness PLEASANTLY rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pré. Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighbouring 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, greensward, Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the highway. Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labour were silenced. |