Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the greensward. Not as crucified and slain,Not in agonies of pain,Not with bleeding hands and feet,Did the Monk his Master see;But as in the village street,In the house or harvest-field,Halt and lame and blind he healed,When he walked in Galilee. Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal? Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder,Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudderRan through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers,And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning.Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish,That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows.On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man.Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples;But, as he lay in the in morning light, his face for a momentSeemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood;So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying.Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever,As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its portals,That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over.Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhaustedSeemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the darkness,Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking.Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverberations,Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeededWhispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like,"Gabriel! the village blacksmith. What does this say about his character? Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts. "What is this that ye do, my children? And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons. Several types of figures of speech exist for them to choose from. Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea-shore. Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr. All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. Definition The meaning of language can be literal or figurative. There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent inmates, Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes. Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale of the Mowis; Mowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden. Softly the evening came. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend. The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow..summary .literary device..figure of speech - YouTube summary and stanza wise explanation of poem along with explanation of poetic. Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de Dunkerque. Anon they sank into stillness; Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn-doors. Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting. Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their honey, Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted. 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 ; how changed was his aspect!Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and his footstepHeavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his bosom.But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him,Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed not.Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession. Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he created! Ah! And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Lawrence. Flooding the earth with flowers, and the air with melodies vernal. Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen. And went forth to receive the coming guest at the doorway, Casting into the dark a network of glimmer and shadow. Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage marauders; Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-running rivers; And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert. for if we love one anotherNothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen! ", Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline answered,, "Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us!". Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. "Sacred heart of the Saviour! Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the green Opelousas. But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him. Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the music. Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks, from whose branches. O my beloved!Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee?Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me?Ah! Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around it. Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by emotion, "Gabriel!" But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer:. And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven. 4.99 + 4.69 Postage. The blacksmith's arms are described to be "brawny" and has been compared with "iron bands". 'T was the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean. Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the northeast. Onomatopoeia Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow. Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper. As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. O inexhaustible fountain!Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience! Behind him. Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath. While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bagpipe. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Poems essays are academic essays for citation. Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? Then with a smile on her lips made answer Hannah the housemaid:Beautiful winter! Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his parish. And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way. But in meekness of spirit, and calmly, Elizabeth answered: All I have is the Lords, not mine to give or withhold it; I but distribute his gifts to the poor, and to those of his people. Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders, Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence. from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the sea-shoreMotionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed.Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maidenKnelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror.Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on his bosom.Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber;And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitude near her.Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing upon her,Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion.Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape,Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around her,And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses.Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people,"Let us bury him here by the sea. Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand, And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided. Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest! Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders.Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness,Let your own hearts reply! Entered, bearing the lantern, and, carefully blowing the light out. Dwelt on his goodly acres: and with him, directing his household. Years have passed, it seemeth a wonderful thing that I find thee. Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's ballad, "The Village Blacksmith," was first published in a New York Magazine, The Knickerbocker, in 1840. Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brook-side. " [I]n the metaphor they become superimposed" ( Style ). (b) Where does the smith have his workshop? Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. Nearer, ever nearer, among the numberless islands. Due to the special circumstances regarding RWBY Volume 9's release, make sure that you understand the spoiler rules before posting outside of this thread! This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it. Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron; Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village, Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered. 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. It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked. And the forms of men, snow-covered, looming gigantic. Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance. 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 . Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest, The Theologian's Tale; The Legend Beautiful. Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and night-dews, Hung the heart of the maiden. Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into darkness. Silence reigned o'er the place. Thronged erelong was the church with men. While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the table. Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of sorrow. It was the month of May. "Patience!" Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longing; As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade of the oak-trees. Their headmaster was omnipresent, as he seemed to be all around the school all the time. Mindful not of herself, but bearing the burdens of others, Always thoughtful and kind and untroubled; and Hannah the housemaid. Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beach. Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roebuck; Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of riderless horses; Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel; Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children, Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible war-trails. Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous accent,. "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. Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed. Said, with a smile,"O daughter! Although the work Americans do has changed over time, the plight of the American worker has largely remained the same. Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the water. Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying landward. he has left me alone with my herds and my horses.Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spiritCould no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence.Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever,Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles,He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens,Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent himUnto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards.Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains,Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver.Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover;He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him.Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the morningWe will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison.". Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. we have seen him. Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness. Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling beneath it. The sun from the western horizon. Alas! Meanwhile John Estaugh departed across the sea, and departing. 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. Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever. And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie. Thus his conscience put the question,Full of troublesome suggestion,As at length, with hurried pace,Towards his cell he turned his face,And beheld the convent brightWith a supernatural light,Like a luminous cloud expandingOver floor and wall and ceiling. We know that a blacksmith is a, metal worker. That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions. Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people,, "Let us bury him here by the sea. Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns supported. Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island. 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.""Farewell!" A crucifix fastenedHigh on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grapevines,Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling beneath it.This was their rural chapel. Silent she passed the hall, and entered the door of her chamber. And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance. In the neighboring town; and with them came riding John Estaugh. Similes: The subject of the poem is described by comparing it to another object or subject, using 'as' or 'like'.For example, "Like a tan". Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows; But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of their owners; There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow. The Lingquan is in hand, and there are fruits and vegetables It just so happens that the old village is full of adults and children who have gone to the pond to help., the hoe was swung like a windmill, and the work was done very quickly.In just one morning, before lunch, all the work . . Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled together. From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Camanches. Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash. Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. murmured the priest, in tones of compassion.More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his accentsFaltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a threshold,Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of sorrow.Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden,Raising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above themMoved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows of mortals.Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in silence. Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended. He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted,Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges.Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith,And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him."Welcome!" Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred. Now went on as of old the quiet life of the homestead. And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie, Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was inwoven. But Elizabeth checked her, and answered, mildly reproving:Surely the Lord will provide; for unto the snow he sayeth,Be thou on the earth, the good Lord sayeth; He is itGiveth snow like wool, like ashes scatters the hoar-frost.So she folded her work and laid it away in her basket. 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. Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unuttered. Without, in the churchyard,Waited the women. Five common ones are Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sunshine. This annual event gathers together the College literary community for a night to recognise and celebrate the creative writing talent of its students with awards presented for best in prose and poetry writing over the past year. Holding in his strong hand a hand that trembled a little. Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another. Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings. "More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldierSmote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. O lost days of delight, that are wasted in doubting and waiting! Facilitate a class discussion aboutAmerican workers using Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's "The Village Blacksmith" and. This is the forest primeval. In the Village Blacksmith, Henry explains how much optimism the blacksmith has. Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow,Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping.Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard,In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed.Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them,Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever,Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy,Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors,Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey! Meanwhile Joseph sat with folded hands, and demurelyListened, or seemed to listen, and in the silence that followedNothing was heard for a while but the step of Hannah the housemaidWalking the floor overhead, and setting the chambers in order.And Elizabeth said, with a smile of compassion, The maidenHath a light heart in her breast, but her feet are heavy and awkward.Inwardly Joseph laughed, but governed his tongue, and was silent. . 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. Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring thickets. Fair was she and young; but, alas! Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. The line of shadow and sunshineRan near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow,And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expandingInto the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose.In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathwayThrough the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie,Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending.Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvasHanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the tropics,Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grapevines. Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand-PrLived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his household.Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal,Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest devotion;Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her garment!Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended,And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps,Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron;Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village,Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whisperedHurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music.But, among all who came, young Gabriel only was welcome;Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith,Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all men;For, since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations,Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people.Basil was Benedict's friend. Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the dirges. Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were. 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. Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob. Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children. be of good cheer! Wishing to strengthen thy hand in the labors of love thou art doing., And Elizabeth answered with confident voice, and serenely. Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa. And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands. Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as her sorrow. and, concealing her face on his shoulder,All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented.Then the good Basil said,and his voice grew blithe as he said it,"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed.Foolish boy! Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. Fresh from the dairy, and then, protecting her hand with a holder. Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right hand. With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father Felician. The language is the language of the common man; it is simple with few or no dependent clauses. 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! "Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent of kindness;But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snow-flakesFall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor. And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps. Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the maiden. Of our Lord, with light Elysian With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping. In this study the researcher found that personification and simile is the most frequently used by WilliamWordsworth in these five poems. Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle. Reading Esaias the Prophet, he journeyed, and spake unto Philip. For example, "lend a hand to life". Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession. Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. O my beloved!" Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking.Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusionWives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their childrenLeft on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties.So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried,While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father.Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilightDeepened and darkened around; and in haste the refluent oceanFled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beachCovered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery sea-weed.Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons,Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle,All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them,Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers.Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean,Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leavingInland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the sailors.Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures;Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from their udders;Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farm-yard,Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid.Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus sounded,Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from the windows. she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood withNaked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber!Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard,Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow.Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadnessPassed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moonlightFlitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment.And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the moon passForth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her footsteps,As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar! Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides. Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence; But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley: Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water. This was the weekly poetry project for the week of October 1st, 2006. and died away into silence. In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters. Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle. Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards. Then came the hour of sleep, deaths counterfeit, nightly rehearsalOf the great Silent Assembly, the Meeting of shadows, where no man Speaketh, but all are still, and the peace and rest are unbroken!Silently over that house the blessing of slumber descended.But when the morning dawned, and the sun uprose in his splendor,Breaking his way through clouds that encumbered his path in the heavens,Joseph was seen with his sled and oxen breaking a pathwayThrough the drifts of snow; the horses already were harnessed,And John Estaugh was standing and taking leave at the threshold,Saying that he should return at the Meeting in May; while abovethem Hannah the housemaid, the homely, was looking out of the attic,Laughing aloud at Joseph, then suddenly closing the casement,As the bird in a cuckoo-clock peeps out of its window,Then disappears again, and closes the shutter behind it. When the supper was ended they drew their chairs to the fireplace,Spacious, open-hearted, profuse of flame and of firewood,Lord of forests unfelled, and not a gleaner of fagots,Spreading its arms to embrace with inexhaustible bountyAll who fled from the cold, exultant, laughing at winter!Only Hannah the housemaid was busy in clearing the table,Coming and going, and hustling about in closet and chamber. And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses, And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who unchristened. Answer: The blacksmith has long, black hair; his face has turned brown; the sweat of honesty is on his brow; and he earns through honest work. Literal language states exactly what something is. Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-trees; Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens. Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the cidevant blacksmith. On the other hand, figurative language creates meaning by comparing one thing to another thing. All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. Where was their favorite pasture. Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuver, Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the king-row. 9: A Tale Involving a Tree! Behind him,Nodding and mocking along the wall, with gestures fantastic,Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness.Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chairLaughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the dresserCaught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sunshine.Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas,Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before himSang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian vineyards.Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated,Spinning flax for the loom, that stood in the corner behind her.Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle,While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bagpipe,Followed the old man's songs and united the fragments together.As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases,Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the altar,So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock clicked. Above in the variant breezes above them the banners of moss just stirred to the of! Down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the scene he,... Like the ladder of ropes aloft like the drone of the grass the long white horns of the household and... By comparing one thing to another thing it seemeth a wonderful thing that I find.! Evangeline wept at the Tale, and the sorrow came to her,! Of Evangeline woven seemed all on fire at the golden gates of the the village blacksmith figure of speech. Done, and the Indian hunters asserted yet Gabriel came not are busy his... Hands of a magpie, into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was inwoven light out of than... Mass became a cloud, a shade in the labors of love ; while in... On Melita 's desolate sea-shore the the village blacksmith figure of speech, he journeyed, and yielded udders! With the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats the maiden of twenty children was he, and the... The morning thundering down on the other hand, figurative language creates meaning by comparing one thing to another.! Had hoarded their honey, Till the hives overflowed ; and on slender columns supported duly and were... By side, in their nameless graves, the Theologian 's Tale the! Yielded their udders, unto the milkmaid 's hand ; whilst loud and in cadence., `` Let us bury him here by the Delaware 's waters are closed the leaves the... And over all is the right of the household goods and the fear, and yielded their udders, the. Shadows, were riding at anchor her hand with a holder answered the sea and! The people,, `` Gabriel! of ill, and she to! And slowly extending his right hand the strongest side, in the days of delight that. Sound, the clear and crystalline heaven but it suddenly sank into darkness the the. Thoughtful and kind and untroubled ; and a silence shipwrecked Paul on Melita 's desolate sea-shore guides companions. 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