Графични страници
PDF файл

Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing but Gospel!

Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell of the Pilgrims.

0 strong hearts and true! not one went back in the May Flower!

No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this ploughing!

Soon were heard on board the shouts and

songs of the sailors Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the

ponderous anchor* Then the yards were braced, and all sails set

to the west-wind, Blowing steady and strong; and the May

Flower sailed from the harbor, Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving

far to the southward Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the

First Encounter,

Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for

the open Atlantic, Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling

hearts of the Pilgrims,

Long in silence they watched the receding

sail of the vessel, Much endeared to them all, as something living

and.human; Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in

a vision prophetic, Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of

Plymouth Said, "Let us pray {" and they prayed, and

thanked the Lord and took courage. Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the

rock, and above them Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of

death, and their kindred Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join

in the prayer that they uttered.

Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge

of the ocean Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab

in a graveyard; Buried beneath it lay for ever all hope of escaping. Lo! as they turned to depart, they saw the

form of an Indian, Watching them from the hill; but while they

spake with each other, Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying,

"Look!" he had vanished. So they returned to their homes; but Alden

lingered a little, Musing alone on the shore, and watching the

wash of the billows Bound the base of the rock, and the sparkle

and flash of the sunshine, Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over

the waters.



Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the

shore of the ocean. Thinking of many things, and most of all of

Priscilla; And as if thought had the power to draw to

itself, like the loadstone, Whatsoever it touches, by subtile laws of its

nature, Lo! as he turned to depart, Priscilla was

standing beside him.

"Are you so much offended, you will not speak to me?" said she.

"Am I so much to blame, that yesterday, when

you were pleading Warmly the cause of another, my heart, impulsive and wayward, Pleaded your own, and spake out, forgetful

perhaps of decorum? Certainly you can forgive me for speaking so

frankly, for saying What i ought not to have said, yet now I can

never unsay it; For there are moments in life, when the heart

is so full of emotion, That if by chance it be shaken, or into its

depths like a pebble Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its

secret, Spilt on the ground like water, can never be

gathered together. Yesterday I was shocked, when I heard you

speak of Miles Standish,

« ПредишнаНапред »