The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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      Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it.

       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      Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the beehives,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-white

      Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler

      Glowed 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 dances

      Under 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!

       So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons sonorous

      Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat.

      Thronged erelong was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard,

      Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones

      Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest.

      Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them

      Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor

      Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement—

      Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal

      Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers.

      Then uprose their commander, and spoke from the steps of the altar,

      Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission.

      "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! To my natural make and my temper

      Painful 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 kinds

      Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province

      Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there

      Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people!

      Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's pleasure!"

      As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer,

      Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones

      Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his windows,

      Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from the house-roofs,

      Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures;

      So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker.

      Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose

      Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger,

      And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way.

      Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations

      Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others

      Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith,

      As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows.

      Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted—

      "Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance!

      Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests!"

      More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier

      Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement.

       In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention,

      Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician

      Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar.

      Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence

      All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people;

      Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful

      Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes.

      "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you?

      Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you,

      Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!

      Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations?

      Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?

      This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it

      Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?

      Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you!

      See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion!

      Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!'

      Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,

      Let СКАЧАТЬ