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The Works of Hildebrand Jacob

... Containing Poems on Various Subjects, and Occasions; With the Fatal Constancy, a Tragedy; and Several Pieces in Prose. The Greatest Part Never Before Publish'd
  

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TALE VII. The INDIAN.
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91

TALE VII. The INDIAN.

A Priest in Mission went from Spain,
The blind Americans to gain,
Gravely converted, bad, or good,
All the poor Savage Souls he cou'd;
His wild Parishioners confess'd,
Absolv'd, exhorted, marry'd, blest;
Labour'd, to let his Converts see,
How far enlighten'd Man might be
By Faith, and Books of Saints inspir'd,
And preach'd, till either Side was tir'd,
On moral Virtue, Sin, and Grace,
Expounding all Things in their Place.
A sly bold Savage, hard of Heart,
Beckons the holy Man apart.

92

Father, your sacred Truths are clear;
Your Morals just, and sound appear;
I here embrace them for my own:
I'm puzzled at one Thing alone.
My Son, your Doubt;—I must confess,
Father, I'm at a loss, to guess,
How 'tis, each Pair of human Kind
You here in Marriage Bonds have join'd,
Become one Flesh, as you ordain?
My Son, give Ear, the Case is plain.
Hold, Father, first I fain, wou'd see,
Why I, who ever have been free.
And whom you Lord of all declare
On Earth, in Water, and in Air,
Shou'd yet be forc'd, to take a Wife
For better, and for worse; for Life;
Keep all the Children, she provides;
Renouncing all the Sex besides?
The Father, staring in his Face,
My Son, you yet are void of Grace:

93

The Devil baffles all I say!
The Savage sneer'd, and ran away.