But with the air of a man whom nothing can turn from his pur pose, Gravely shaking his head, made answer the Captain of Plym 66 outh, Truly the maxim is good, and I do not mean to gainsay it ; But we must use it discreetly, and not waste powder for nothing. I can march up to a fortress and summon the place to surrender, woman, That I confess I'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it ! So you must grant my request, for you are an elegant scholar, Having the graces of speech, and skill in the turning of phrases." Taking the band of his friend, who still was reluctant and doubtful, Holding it long in his own, and pressing it kindly, he added: “Though I have spoken thus lightly, yet deep is the feeling that prompts me ; Surely you cannot refuse what I ask in the name of our friendship!" Then made answer John Alden : "The name of friendship is sacred; What you demand in that name, I have not the power to deny you!" So the strong will prevailed, subduing and moulding the gentler, Friendship prevailed over love, and Alden went on his errand. III. THE LOVER'S ERRAND. So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on his errand, Towns in the populous trees, with hanging gardens of verdure, All around him was calm, but within him commotion and conflict, Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing, As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the vessel, Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of the ocean! "Must I relinquish it all," he cried with a wild lamentation, "Must I relinquish it all, the joy, the hope, the illusion? Was it for this I have loved, and waited, and worshipped in silence? Was it for this I have followed the flying feet and the shadow So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand; Crossing the brook at the ford, where it brawled over pebble and shallow, 1 The reference is to 2 Cor. xi 14. Baal and Ashtaroth, the supreme male and female divinities of the Phoenicians and Canaanites. Gathering still, as he went, the May-flowers blooming around him, Fragrant, filling the air with a strange and wonderful sweetness, Children lost in the woods, and covered with leaves in their slumber. "Puritan flowers," he said, "and the type of Puritan maidens, Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of Priscilla ! So I will take them to her; to Priscilla the May-flower of Plymouth, Modest and simple and sweet, as a parting gift will I take them ; Breathing their silent farewells, as they fade and wither and perish, Soon to be thrown away as is the heart of the giver." So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand ; Came to an open space, and saw the disk of the ocean, Sailless, sombre and cold with the comfortless breath of the east wind; Saw the new-built house, and people at work in a meadow ; Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth, yard, Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses. Such was the book from whose pages she sang the old Puritan anthem, She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest, 1 The English May-flower, for which the vessel was named is the hawthorn blossom The New England May-flower is the trailing arbutus. The trailing arbutus blooms underneath the dead leaves. The reference is to the nursery story of the Babes in the Wood. A spirited description of the musical notation of that day. For specimen of the words, see appendix to introduction. Making the humble house and the modest apparel of home-spun Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being! Over him rushed, like a wind that is keen and cold and relentless, Thoughts of what might have been, and the weight and woe of his errand; All the dreams that had faded, and all the hopes that had vanished, All his life henceforth a dreary and tenantless mansion, Still he said to himself, and almost fiercely he said it, "Let not him that putteth his hand to the plough look backwards; ' Though the ploughshare cut through the flowers of life to its fountains, Though it pass o'er the graves of the dead and the hearths of the living, It is the will of the Lord; and his mercy endureth for ever!" So he entered the house and the hum of the wheel and the singing Suddenly ceased; for Priscilla, aroused by his step on the threshold, Rose as he entered, and gave him her hand, in signal of welcome, Saying, "I knew it was you, when I heard your step in the passage; For I was thinking of you, as I sat there singing and spinning." Awkward and dumb with delight, that a thought of him had been mingled Thus in the sacred psalm, that came from the heart of the maiden, Silent before her he stood, and gave her the flowers for an an swer, Finding no words for his thought. He remembered that day in the winter, After the first great snow, when he broke a path from the village, Reeling and plunging along through the drifts that encumbered the doorway, 1 Luke ix. 62. "No man, having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.' Stamping the snow from his feet as he entered the house, and Priscilla Laughed at his snowy locks, and gave him a seat by the fireside, Grateful and pleased to know he had thought of her in the snow-storm. Had he but spoken then! perhaps not in vain had he spoken; answer. Then they sat down and talked of the birds and the beautiful Spring-time, Talked of their friends at home, and the May Flower that sailed on the morrow. "I have been thinking all day," said gently the Puritan maiden, "Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hedgerows of England, They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a garden; Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the linnet, Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighbors And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the ivy yard. Kind are the people I live with, and dear to me my religion; Thereupon answered the youth :-"Indeed I do not condemn you; Stouter hearts than a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter. Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on ; So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!" 1 These birds are practically identified with England. |