The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
 |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
| 24. |
| 25. |
| 26. | XXVI |
| 27. |
| 28. |
| 29. |
| 30. |
| 31. |
| 32. |
| 33. |
| 34. |
| 35. |
| 36. |
| 37. |
| 38. |
| 39. |
| 40. |
| 41. |
| 42. |
| 43. |
 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
XXVI
“Yet none the less—O heart of flint!
I gathered gold withouten stint,
Nor paused amid my vampyre chase,
Nor ceased to scorn the heavenly grace,
And like myself I made the men
Who share my fortune now as then.
I gathered gold withouten stint,
Nor paused amid my vampyre chase,
Nor ceased to scorn the heavenly grace,
And like myself I made the men
Who share my fortune now as then.
This galley freighted we with groans
And bloody tears of Indian zones,
Transformed by cruelty and lies
To jewels, gold and merchandise.
Then, hoping greater gain if we
Might quickly overspan the sea,
I swore that neither love, nor fear,
Nor law divine, nor human tear
Should make me slacken sail or veer
In all my voyage. Demon oath!
Fulfilled with more than demon troth,
And punished by the watchful power
Of Him who knows the sparrow's hour.
And bloody tears of Indian zones,
Transformed by cruelty and lies
To jewels, gold and merchandise.
Then, hoping greater gain if we
Might quickly overspan the sea,
I swore that neither love, nor fear,
Nor law divine, nor human tear
Should make me slacken sail or veer
In all my voyage. Demon oath!
Fulfilled with more than demon troth,
And punished by the watchful power
Of Him who knows the sparrow's hour.
Upon the hundreth prosperous day
We bellied swift along our way,
Dividing Holland seas at last
And vaunting over perils past;
Upon that gracious day, as morn
Shook over earth her golden horn,
Enriching all the east with skies
That fitter seemed for Paradise;
Upon that gracious morn we spied,
A furlong from our hissing side,
A wreck that wallowed deadly deep,
Whereon a castaway did weep
And wring his hands athwart the wave,
Beseeching us to pause and save.
We bellied swift along our way,
Dividing Holland seas at last
And vaunting over perils past;
186
Shook over earth her golden horn,
Enriching all the east with skies
That fitter seemed for Paradise;
Upon that gracious morn we spied,
A furlong from our hissing side,
A wreck that wallowed deadly deep,
Whereon a castaway did weep
And wring his hands athwart the wave,
Beseeching us to pause and save.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |