who painted the wreck of the hesperus

And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. In friendly contention the old men. Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved thee. Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people,—, "Let us bury him here by the sea. the priest would say; "have faith, and thy prayer will be answered! Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. Christ save us all from a death like this. Thus spake Elizabeth Haddon at nightfall to Hannah the housemaid,As in the farm-house kitchen, that served for kitchen and parlor,By the window she sat with her work, and looked on a landscapeWhite as the great white sheet that Peter saw in his vision,By the four corners let down and descending out of the heavens.Covered with snow were the forests of pine, and the fields and the meadows.Nothing was dark but the sky, and the distant Delaware flowingDown from its native hills, a peaceful and bountiful river. Her name is Lydia, she's a Kromski Minstrel, and I just finished staining and painting her. Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol. Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremembered. We will not speak of it further.It hath been laid upon me to tell thee this, for to-morrowThou art going away, across the sea, and I know notWhen I shall see thee more; but if the Lord hath decreed it,Thou wilt return again to seek me here and to find me.”And they rode onward in silence, and entered the town with the others. There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated; There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding, Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded. Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of Heaven; Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning. He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to the prairies; Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters and trappers.". She would commence again her endless search and endeavor; Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and tombstones, Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its bosom. I hear the church bells ring,      O, say, what may it be?”“ ’Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!” —      And he steered for the open sea. "Gabriel! Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface. Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. Twenty ships and forty lives were lost during the storm. That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and beauty. His, not mine, are the gifts, and only so far can I make them. To my natural make and my temperPainful 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 kindsForfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this provinceBe transported to other lands. Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties. whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of darkness: And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To-morrow! All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the sleepers. "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember,Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of JusticeStood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand,And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presidedOver the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people.Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance,Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above them.But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted;Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mightyRuled with an iron rod. how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie!Ah! "Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields. Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of the women. Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder. Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated. Then it chanced in a nobleman's palaceThat a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a suspicionFell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household.She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold,Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice.As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended,Lo! Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape; Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest. The line of shadow and sunshine. on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen,And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended,—Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience!Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village,Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of the women,As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed,Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children.Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vaporsVeiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches. my little daughtér,      And do not tremble so;For I can weather the roughest gale      That ever wind did blow.”. Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard. His inspiration may have come from the wreck of the ship "Favorite" from Wiscasset, Maine on Norman’s Woe during the great blizzard of 1839. All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them. "Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser; And what their errand may be I know not better than others. Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning. ", Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, "I cannot!—. Ah! be of good cheer! Plaintive at first were the tones and sad; then soaring to madness. Behind them followed the watch-dog,Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct,Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superblyWaving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers;Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector,When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, the wolves howled.Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes,Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor.Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their fetlocks,While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles,Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson,Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms.Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their uddersUnto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadenceInto the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended.Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm-yard,Echoed back by the barns. "Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel! Wreck of the Hesperus comes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellows poem of the same name published in the 1840's. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gatesOpened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfieldsSpreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northwardBlomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountainsSea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty AtlanticLooked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descendedThere, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projectingOver the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtlesScarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the goldenFlax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doorsMingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens,Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the childrenPaused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them.Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and maidens,Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome.Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely the sun sankDown to his rest, and twilight prevailed. O inexhaustible fountain!Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience! Only Hannah the housemaid was busy in clearing the table. Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the music. 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. E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been taken. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beachPiled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants.All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply;All day long the wains came laboring down from the village.Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting,Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the churchyard.Thither the women and children thronged. Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession approached her. Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches tobacco, Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they listened:—. Wreck of the Hesperus, January 6, 1839. Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the teacher. Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and restless. Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle. Shone on the eyes of man who had ceased to marvel and worship. Under the Sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse. 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! Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers; Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector. Alas! More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his accents. As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies. Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the Herdsman. E’en as she spake they heard the musical jangle of sleigh-bells. Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind him. O lost days of delight, that are wasted in doubting and waiting! High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by emotion, "Gabriel!" Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. He wrapped her warm in his seaman’s coat      Against the stinging blast;He cut a rope from a broken spar,      And bound her to the mast. More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. Surely the hand of the Lord conducted me here to thy threshold. Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska; And to the south, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish sierras. Then it came to pass, one pleasant morning, that slowly, Up the road there came a cavalcade, as of pilgrims, Men and women, wending their way to the Quarterly Meeting. Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sunshine. By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and children.". Hung it up on its nail, and all sat down to their supper; For underneath that roof was no distinction of persons. Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr. Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day. Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his windows. ", Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded. The breakers were right beneath her bows, She struck where the white and fleecy waves. In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmerSat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the smoke-wreathsStruggled together like foes in a burning city. thy God thus speaketh within thee! said others; "O yes! All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass grows. Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pré. Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith. Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience! And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and horseshoes. Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson. Down the hillside hounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake him. Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the prairie,Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups,Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin.Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish sombreroGazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master.Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were grazingQuietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshnessThat uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape.Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expandingFully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resoundedWildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening.Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattleRose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean.Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie,And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance.Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the gardenSaw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to meet him.Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and forwardRushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder;When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the blacksmith.Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden.There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answerGave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces,Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful.Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivingsStole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed,Broke the silence and said,—"If you came by the Atchafalaya,How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the bayous? January 6, 2015. Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cart-wheel. Then it chanced in a nobleman's palace, That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a suspicion. Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moonlight. The tapers gleamed from the altar.Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest and the people responded,Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave MariaSang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated,Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven. Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest! Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling beneath it. And John Estaugh was standing and taking leave at the threshold, Saying that he should return at the Meeting in May; while above. 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