Evangeline: Part The Second. V. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGDCHDIADAIJKJL MINOPQORRRAISTUIJRRR RRIVRV RVWIUXVIIVVVRU JIIVVBI RVXYRRZRJRRVVVVRRVXI IA2V IIVJB2VC2VRRJIVIRVJV RJVRYRXVRRXQD2VR R| IN that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters | A |
| Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle | B |
| Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded | C |
| There all the air is balm and the peach is the emblem of beauty | D |
| And the streets still re echo the names of the trees of the forest | E |
| As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested | F |
| There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed an exile | G |
| Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country | D |
| There old Ren Leblanc had died and when he departed | C |
| Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants | H |
| Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city | D |
| Something that spake to her heart and made her no longer a stranger | I |
| And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers | A |
| For it recalled the past the old Acadian country | D |
| Where all men were equal and all were brothers and sisters | A |
| So when the fruitless search the disappointed endeavor | I |
| Ended to recommence no more upon earth uncomplaining | J |
| Thither as leaves to the light were turned her thoughts and her footsteps | K |
| As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning | J |
| Roll away and afar we behold the landscape below us | L |
| Sun illumined with shining rivers and cities and hamlets | M |
| So fell the mists from her mind and she saw the world far below her | I |
| Dark no longer but all illumined with love and the pathway | N |
| Which she had climbed so far lying smooth and fair in the distance | O |
| Gabriel was not forgotten Within her heart was his image | P |
| Clothed in the beauty of love and youth as last she beheld him | Q |
| Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence | O |
| Into her thoughts of him time entered not for it was not | R |
| Over him years had no power he was not changed but transfigured | R |
| He had become to her heart as one who is dead and not absent | R |
| Patience and abnegation of self and devotion to others | A |
| This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her | I |
| So was her love diffused but like to some odorous spices | S |
| Suffered no waste nor loss though filling the air with aroma | T |
| Other hope had she none nor wish in life but to follow | U |
| Meekly with reverent steps the sacred feet of her Saviour | I |
| Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy frequenting | J |
| Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city | R |
| Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight | R |
| Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected | R |
| Night after night when the world was asleep as the watchman repeated | R |
| Loud through the gusty streets that all was well in the city | R |
| High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper | I |
| Day after day in the gray of the dawn as slow through the suburbs | V |
| Plodded the German farmer with flowers and fruits for the market | R |
| Met he that meek pale face returning home from its watchings | V |
| - | |
| Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city | R |
| Presaged by wondrous signs and mostly by flocks of wild pigeons | V |
| Darkening the sun in their flight with naught in their craws but an acorn | W |
| And as the tides of the sea arise in the month of September | I |
| Flooding some silver stream till it spreads to a lake in the meadow | U |
| So death flooded life and o'erflowing its natural margin | X |
| Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream of existence | V |
| Wealth had no power to bribe nor beauty to charm the oppressor | I |
| But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger | I |
| Only alas the poor who had neither friends nor attendants | V |
| Crept away to die in the almshouse home of the homeless | V |
| Then in the suburbs it stood in the midst of meadows and woodlands | V |
| Now the city surrounds it but still with its gateway and wicket | R |
| Meek in the midst of splendor its humble walls seem to echo | U |
| Softly the words of the Lord 'The poor ye always have with you ' | - |
| Thither by night and by day came the Sister of Mercy The dying | J |
| Looked up into her face and thought indeed to behold there | I |
| Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor | I |
| Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apostles | V |
| Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance | V |
| Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial | B |
| Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would enter | I |
| - | |
| Thus on a Sabbath morn through the streets deserted and silent | R |
| Wending her quiet way she entered the door of the almshouse | V |
| Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden | X |
| And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them | Y |
| That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and beauty | R |
| Then as she mounted the stairs to the corridors cooled by the east wind | R |
| Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of Christ Church | Z |
| While intermingled with these across the meadows were wafted | R |
| Sounds of psalms that were sung by the Swedes in their church at Wicaco | J |
| Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit | R |
| Something within her said 'At length thy trials are ended' | R |
| And with light in her looks she entered the chambers of sickness | V |
| Noiselessly moved about the assiduous careful attendants | V |
| Moistening the feverish lip and the aching brow and in silence | V |
| Closing the sightless eyes of the dead and concealing their faces | V |
| Where on their pallets they lay like drifts of snow by the roadside | R |
| Many a languid head upraised as Evangeline entered | R |
| Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed for her presence | V |
| Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison | X |
| And as she looked around she saw how Death the consoler | I |
| Laying his hand upon many a heart had healed it forever | I |
| Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night time | A2 |
| Vacant their places were or filled already by strangers | V |
| - | |
| Suddenly as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder | I |
| Still she stood with her colorless lips apart while a shudder | I |
| Ran through her frame and forgotten the flowerets dropped from her fingers | V |
| And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning | J |
| Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish | B2 |
| That the dying heard it and started up from their pillows | V |
| On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man | C2 |
| Long and thin and gray were the locks that shaded his temples | V |
| But as he lay in the morning light his face for a moment | R |
| Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood | R |
| So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying | J |
| Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever | I |
| As if life like the Hebrew with blood had besprinkled its portals | V |
| That the Angel of Death might see the sign and pass over | I |
| Motionless senseless dying he lay and his spirit exhausted | R |
| Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the darkness | V |
| Darkness of slumber and death forever sinking and sinking | J |
| Then through those realms of shade in multiplied reverberations | V |
| Heard he that cry of pain and through the hush that succeeded | R |
| Whispered a gentle voice in accents tender and saint like | J |
| 'Gabriel O my beloved ' and died away into silence | V |
| Then he beheld in a dream once more the home of his childhood | R |
| Green Acadian meadows with sylvan rivers among them | Y |
| Village and mountain and woodlands and walking under their shadow | R |
| As in the days of her youth Evangeline rose in his vision | X |
| Tears came into his eyes and as slowly he lifted his eyelids | V |
| Vanished the vision away but Evangeline knelt by his bedside | R |
| Vainly he strove to whisper her name for the accents unuttered | R |
| Died on his lips and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken | X |
| Vainly he strove to rise and Evangeline kneeling beside him | Q |
| Kissed his dying lips and laid his head on her bosom | D2 |
| Sweet was the light of his eyes but it suddenly sank into darkness | V |
| As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement | R |
| - | |
| All was ended now the hope and | R |
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(1)
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