Charlevoix county herald. (East Jordan, Mich.) 189?-1953, 1911-10-14
The LOVERS EIYQnd

~ TIC SIIOuS VIII pTtNdllSu, anu al
den went on his errand,
Out Of the street of the village. and
int3 the paths of the forest,
Into the tranquil woods, where blue
birds and robins were building
Towns in the populous trees. with
hanging gardens Of verdure,
Peaceful, aerial cities of Joy and af-
lection and freedom.
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 laundering ship. with every
roll of the vessel,
Washes the bitter sea, the merciless
surge of the ocean!
Must relinquish it ALL" he cried
with a wild lamentation,
Must | relinquish it all, the joy, the
hope, the illusion?
Was 1t for this | have loved, and
waited, and worshiped in silence?
Was 1t for this l have followed the
flying feet and the shadow
Over the wintry sea, to the desolate
shores of New England?
Truly the heart is deceitful, and out
of its depths Of corruption
Rise, like an exhalation. the misty
phantoms Of passion;
Angels of light they seem, but are
only decisions of Satan.
All Is clear to me now; feel it, l see
It distinctly!
This isrthe hand of the Lord; it is
laid upon me in anger,
For | have followed TOO much the
hearts desires and devices,
Worshiping Ashtoreth blindly. and
impious idols of Baal.
This is the cross must bear; the sin
and the swift retribution."
So through the Plymouth woods John
Alden went on his errand;
Crossing the brook at the ford, where
1t brawled over pebble and shall
low,
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 COW
cred with leaves in their slumber.
Puritan flowers" he said, land the
type of Puritan maidens,
Modest and simple and sweet, the
very type Of Priscilla!
So | wilJake them to her; to Priscilla
the May-fower of Plymouth,
Modest and simple and sweet, as a
parting gift will | 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, somber and cold with the
comfortless breath of the east
wind;
Saw the new-built house, and people
at work in meadow;
Heard, as he drew near the door, the
musical voice of Priscilla
Singing the hundredth Psalm, the
grand old Puritan anthem,
Music that Luther sang to the sacred
words of the Psalmist,
Full OF the breath of the Lord, con-
soling and comforting many.
Then, as he opened the door. he be-
held the form of the maiden
Seated beside her wheel, and the
carded wool like a snow-drift
Piled at her knee, her white hands
feeding the ravenous spindle,
While with her foot on the treadle
she guided the wheel In Its motion.
Open wide on her lap lay the we'll
worn psalm-book of Ainsworth,
Printed in Amsterdam, the words and
music together,
Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones
In the wall Of a churchyard,
Darkened and overhung by the rum
ming 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,
Making the humble house and the
modest apparel OF homespun
Beautiful with her beauty, and rich
with the wealth of her being!
Over him rushed, like wind that is
keen and cold and relentless,
Thoughts of what might have been,
and the weight and woe of his err
rand;
All the Geams that had faded, and
all the hopes that had vanished.
All his life henceforth a dreary and
tenantless mansion,
Haunted by vain regrets, and pallid,
sorrowful faces.
Still he said to himself, and almost
fiercely he said it:
Let not hir that putteth his hand 10