|line||Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides|
Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children.
Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand
|490||Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending,|
Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed each
Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its windows.
Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table;
There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild-flowers;
|495||There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy,|
And, at the head of the board, the great arm-chair of the farmer.
Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset
Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial meadows.
Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen,
|500||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,
|505||Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children.|
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors
Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.
Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded.