Patient, courageous, and strong, and said to myself, that if ever

There were angels on earth, as there are angels in heaven,

Two have I seen and known; and the angel whose name is Priscilla

145 Holds in my desolate life the place which the other abandoned.

Long have I cherished the thought, but never have dared to reveal it,

Being a coward in this, though valiant enough for
the most part.

Go to the damsel Priscilla, the loveliest maiden of
Plymouth,

Say that a blunt old Captain, a man not of words
but of actions,

150 Offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier.

Not in these words, you know, but this in short is

my meaning;

I am a maker of war, and not a maker of phrases.
You, who are bred as a scholar, can say it in ele-

gant language,

Such as you read in your books of the pleadings and wooings of lovers,

155 Such as you think best adapted to win the heart of a maiden."

When he had spoken, John Alden, the fairhaired, taciturn stripling,

All aghast at his words, surprised, embarrassed, bewildered,

Trying to mask his dismay by treating the subject with lightness,

Trying to smile, and yet feeling his heart stand still in his bosom,

160 Just as a timepiece stops in a house that is stricken

by lightning,

Thus made answer and spake, or rather stammered than answered:

"Such a message as that, I am sure I should mangle and mar it;

If you would have it well done, I am only repeating your maxim,

You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to

others!"

165 But with the air of a man whom nothing can turn from his purpose,

Gravely shaking his head, made answer the Captain of Plymouth:

"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.

Now, as I said before, I was never a maker of

phrases.

170 I can march up to a fortress and summon the place

to surrender,

But march up to a woman with such a proposal,

I dare not.

I'm not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the

mouth of a cannon,

But of a thundering No!' point-blank from the mouth of a woman,

That I confess I'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it!

175 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 hand of his friend, who still was reluc

tant 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;

180 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.

185 So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on

his errand,

Out of the street of the village, and into the paths

of the forest,

Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and robins were building

Towns in the populous trees, with hanging gardens of verdure,

Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and freedom.

190 All around him was calm, but within him commo

tion and conflict,

Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impuise.

188. Compare the populous nests in Evangeline, . 136.

the hanging gardens of verdure there is reference to the famous hanging gardens of Babylon.

To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing,

As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the ves

sel,

Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of the

ocean!

195 "Must I relinquish it all," he cried with a will 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

Over the wintry sea, to the desolate shores of New

England?

200 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 delusions

of Satan.

All is clear to me now; I feel it, I see it distinctly!
This is the hand of the Lord; it is laid upon me in

anger,

205 For I have followed too much the heart's desires and devices,

Worshipping Astaroth blindly, and impious idols of Baal.

This is the cross I must bear; the sin and the swift retribution."

206. Astaroth, in the Old Testament Scripture, is the form used for the principal female divinity, as Baal of the principal) male divinity of the Phoenicians.

So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand;

Crossing the brook at the ford, where it brawled over pebble and shallow,

ZIC Gathering still, as he went, the Mayflowers 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!

215 So I will take them to her; to Priscilla the Mayflower 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;

22ɔ Came to an open space, and saw the disk of the

ocean,

Sailless, sombre and cold with the comfortless

breath of the east-wind;

210. The Mayflower is the well-known Epigaa repens, sometimes also called the Trailing Arbutus. The name Mayflower was familiar in England, as the application of it to the historic ship shows, but it was applied by the English, and is still, to the hawthorn. Its use here in connection with Epigaa repens dates from a very early day, some claiming that the first Pilgrims so used it, in affectionate memory of the vessel and its English flower associations.