And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure

Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on his bugle.

Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang,

Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to the forest.

Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the music.

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance,

Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches,

But not a voice replied, no answer came from the darkness,

And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence.

Then Evageline slept, and the boatmen rowed through the midnight,

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs,

Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers,

While throughout the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the desert,

Far off--indistinct--as of wave or wind in the forest,