Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Evangeline
    Evangeline
    Evangeline
    Ebook80 pages56 minutes

    Evangeline

    By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    3.5/5

    ()

    Switch to audiobook
    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Evangeline describes the betrothal of a fictional Acadian girl named Evangeline Bellefontaine to her beloved, Gabriel Lajeunesse, and their separation as the British deport the Acadians from Acadie in the Great Upheaval. The poem then follows Evangeline across the landscapes of America as she spends years in a search for him, at some times being near to Gabriel without realizing he was near.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStart Publishing LLC
    Release dateJan 18, 2013
    ISBN9781625584007

    Read more from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    Related to Evangeline

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Through The Looking Glass

      Jan 26, 2022

      ABOARD the 07.50 from Paddington. Black sky pressing down on black buildings, faces lit by mobile phones on commuter platforms. For once, rather than stick my head in a thriller, I decide to view the passing of England through a carriage window. For

      3 min read

    • Article

      Scarlet Ribbons

      Oct 20, 2022

      I was two when I came to love the tiny, red flowers that spilled over the worn doorstep of my first home and splattered the cracked pathway to the beck with vibrant colour. Like Hansel’s breadcrumbs, the scarlet pimpernel ribbon was my security on th

      3 min read

    • Article

      Corndon Hill

      Nov 5, 2021

      Corndon Hill
      3 min read

    • Article

      A Parsonage in New Hope

      Dec 4, 2023

      A Parsonage in New Hope
      12 min read

    • Article

      The Island (catullus 64)

      Mar 1, 2022

      Back then the evergreens tumbled downriverfrom the glaze-white runoff to the boot-stirred puddlesof amber young men who fulfilled our destiny,who clambered into ships, on horses, and in wagonspainting the newfound landscapes ours.Our calling was nobl

      9 min read

    • Article

      The Call Of The Wild

      Nov 30, 2020

      The Call Of The Wild
      2 min read

    • Article

      Yr Eifl

      Nov 24, 2023

      Yr Eifl
      3 min read

    • Article

      The FRIENDLY FAROES

      Mar 10, 2022

      The FRIENDLY FAROES
      9 min read

    • Article

      Taking a Walk

      Jun 30, 2021

      Taking a Walk
      2 min read

    • Article

      The Exodus (August 3, 1492)

      Aug 10, 2017

      The Exodus (August 3, 1492)
      2 min read

    • Article

      Wheeling Free

      Jan 26, 2022

      Wheeling Free
      4 min read

    • Article

      Lilliput Lane

      Nov 22, 2018

      Lilliput Lane
      1 min read

    • Article

      In Memory Of Derek Alton Walcott

      Mar 15, 2018

      1 Island traffic slows to a haltas screeching gulls reluctantto lift heavenwardcongregate like mourners in saltcrustedkelp, as the repellentnews spreads to colder shores: Sir Derek is no more.Bandwidths, clogged by streamingtributes, carry the pitcho

      2 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Sep 4, 2018

      In London. England. Who knows why?Perhaps this rumpled guyFrom central casting or a page of Dickens.He’s taking ordinary usTo haunts of the illustrious,Where even dull pulse quickens. A red felt hat’s dark fingered brim,Food-spotted vest are—him.A mo

      4 min read

    • Article

      Low Expectations

      Feb 1, 2019

      Low Expectations
      7 min read

    • Article

      Writers’ Places

      Dec 17, 2019

      Writers’ Places
      14 min read

    • Article

      SAINTS & COWBOYS

      Oct 5, 2023

      SAINTS & COWBOYS
      12 min read

    • Article

      Happy Christmas 1871!

      Nov 8, 2022

      Happy Christmas 1871!
      3 min read

    • Article

      About Town Te Anau

      Apr 19, 2021

      About Town Te Anau
      4 min read

    • Article

      It’s Come to This

      Sep 1, 2021

      It’s Come to This
      16 min read

    • Article

      So Long, Farewell

      Sep 28, 2022

      So Long, Farewell
      4 min read

    • Article

      Raiders From The Sea

      Sep 1, 2023

      CANNY LIFTED HER head from the swirls of gold and red and put down the brush, stretching her frozen fingers. The sun fell through the scriptorium window in warm panels, but the room was still cold, and she’d been at work on the manuscript in front of

      7 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Evangeline

    3.5/5

    6 ratings6 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 1/5
      This review is of this stupid Amazon free Kindle edition, not Longfellow's great poem. THIS EDITION COMPLETELY OMITS THE PRELUDE. The prelude sets the tone for the entire poem, and nicely mirrors the final stanza. Apparently the "group of volunteers" who converted the hard copy to an ebook were a bunch of Philistines who thought that the book's Part the First began at the Roman numeral one, and that the few preceding stanzas were just a bunch of stuff somebody added for no good reason. Well, since this edition is free, I guess one shouldn't expect to receive the complete work. This is so bad because anyone new to poetry might not know the prelude was omitted, and thus be robbed of a slice of Longfellow's genius that goes a long way to making Evangeline the masterpiece that it is. Shame on those volunteers.
    • 5/5
      Evangeline by Henry Wadsworth LongfellowThe beautiful, lyrical poem about the Acadians after the discovery of America.One of the most beautiful openings in the history of literature:"This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring oceanSpeaks, and in the accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.I am certain that many of us here on LT know those words by memory."Evangeline is just a beautiful, lovely poem a little over 100 pages long about love and loss; the searching and finding of it again only to realize it is too late.My copy has been handed down in the family and is a very delicate April, 1908 copy. It was copyrighted in 1900. My grandfather gave it to my father as a young man & my father gave it to me when I graduated from H.S. in 1966. I try to make sure I read this every year.I read this for the first time in the fifth grade and have never forgotten it. I very highly recommended "Evangeline" for anyone who loves poetry and beautifully written prose. I rated it 5 stars.
    • 4/5
      Beautifully illustrated with drawings and paintings from earlier editions, this is a wonderful collectors edition. I recently saw the Charlottetown Centre for the Arts production of the musical version of Evangeline and the story line they used did not always follow the one I thought existed. Thus I read the full poem to check what Longfellow had really written especially the part where the musical suggested Evangeline and Gabriel had been married. They were not married in the poem, just betrothed.The introduction by Fergusson is full of interesting details about why the poem was written and from what sources Longfellow took his geography lessons as he described Evangeline's travels.
    • 4/5
      Serene, relentless, first published in 1847, ninety-two years after the neutral town of Gran Pre was destroyed, and its inhabitants removed and separated, during the hostilities between new England and new France, in which Acadia was a pawn. The story of a girl separated from her lover in that derangement, grown old looking for each other, and finally finding each other again, on the threshhold of death.
    • 5/5
      Having grown up in Canada, this was required reading and I must say, it was, and remains, one of my favourites. It is hugely tragic, but incredibly interesting as a history.Longfellow's work details the exile of the French Acadians from Nova Scotia by the English in the mid-18th century, many of whom ended up in Louisiana (the word "cajun" being a bastardization of "acadian,") and the lifelong search of one woman named Evangeline for her love Gabriel from whom she was separated during the exile.There is some debate as to Evangeline's actual existence, but the fact is, whether she existed or not, under another name (as many believe) or not at all, but she is immortalized in a beautiful epic poem, in a parish in Louisiana and in a driving route in Nova Scotia. Longfellow's poem brings to the forefront an oft-neglected piece of both Canadian and American history in a beautiful, if tragic, story.
    • 3/5
      Longfellow's classic poem about the expulsion of the Acadians from Nova Scotia is a bit creaky, but still intriguing for those who have never read it. The dactylic hexameter lines dance through the poem of love lost, love sought, resignation and the final culmination of spiritual transcendance. Longfellow's attempt to create a North American legend has spawned tourist attractions from Nova Scotia to Louisiana.

    Book preview

    Evangeline - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,

    Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,

    Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,

    Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.

    Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean

    Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

    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?

    Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,—

    Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,

    Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?

    Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!

    Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October

    Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o’er the ocean.

    Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pré.

    Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,

    Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman’s devotion,

    List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;

    List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

    Part the First

    I

    IN the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,

    Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pré

    Lay in the fruitful valley. 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-gates

    Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o’er the meadows.

    West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields

    Spreading afar and unfenced o’er the plain; and away to the northward

    Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains

    Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic

    Looked on the happy valley, but ne’er from their station descended.

    There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.

    Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut,

    Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.

    Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting

    Over the basement below protected and shaded the door-way.

    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 kirtles

    Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden

    Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

    Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens.

    Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the children

    Paused 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 sank

    Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry

    Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village

    Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending,

    Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment.

    Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers,—

    Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from

    Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics.

    Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows;

    But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners;

    There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance.

    Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas,

    Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Pré,

    Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his household,

    Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village.

    Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters;

    Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes;

    White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves.

    Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers.

    Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside,

    Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses!

    Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows.

    When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide

    Flagons of home-brewed ale,

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1