Songs Old and New :: :: University of Virginia Library

“When the Spaniards understood the simple opinion of the Yucatan Islanders concerning the souls of their departed, which, after their sins purged in the cold northern mountains, should pass into the south—to the intent that, leaving their own country of their own accord, they might suffer themselves to be brought to Hispaniola, they did persuade these poor wretches that they came from those places where they should see their parents and children, and all their kindred and friends that were dead, and enjoy all kinds of delights, with the embracement and fruition of all beloved beings. And they, being infected and possessed with these crafty and subtle imaginations, singing and rejoicing, left their country, and followed vain and idle hope. But when they saw that they were deceived, and neither met their parents nor any that they desired, but were compelled to undergo grievous sovereignty and command, and to endure cruel and extreme labour, they either slew themselves, or, choosing to famish, gave up their fair spirits, being persuaded by no reason or violence to take food. So these miserable Yucatans came to their end.” —Quoted in “Short Studies on Great Subjects,” by J. A Froude.

I.

“They came o'er the Eastern Sea;
None had ever seen its shore;
And living things,
With grand white wings,
Those white-limbed strangers bore.

“White wings on the purple sea,
Like the white-winged clouds o'erhead.
We said, ‘They come
From the far-off Home,
Where rest our happy dead.

“‘They know of the far white hills
Where our belovëd go,
Cleansing their souls
Where the thunder rolls
O'er the fields of ice and snow!

“‘They come from the sunlit shore
Where our belovëd rest;
Where they rest in light
All pure and white,
'Neath the morning's golden breast.’

“They landed on our isle,
Our reverent trust they won,
This Royal Race
From the Dawn's own place,
These Children of the Sun.

“Like lightnings flashed their swords;
They held the winds their slaves;

The thunders raged,
In their sea-towers caged;
They rode on the foaming waves.

“We saw they were strong and wise,
We thought they were good and true;
We said, ‘They will tell
Where our lost ones dwell,’
For we thought they all things knew.

“They saw how we yearned for our dead;
They answered grave and slow:—
‘Trust us; we come
From that far-off home;
With us to your Dead ye shall go.’

“We climbed their dread sea-towers,
For we trusted the words they said;
We feared not the thunder,
Caged, sullen, under;
For we went to rejoin our dead.

“Singing and glad we went,
Those treacherous billows o'er,
To those unknown strands,
For a clasp of the hands
We had feared to clasp no more;

“For a sound of the well-known voice
We had feared not to hear again:
For we thought, ‘Even thus
They are watching for us,
Watching across the main.

“‘Will they meet us one by one,
On lonely cliff or shore,
Or with flowers and song
In a festive throng,
To part from us never more?’

“So, singing and glad we went,
Trusting, across the main,
Till we reached the strand,
Where they drove us to land
With laughter, and lash, and chain.

“For the welcomes of our beloved,
The stranger's stripes and jeers;
For the promised Home,
The slave's dark doom,
And toil without time for tears.

“But they will not bind us long;
We are breaking their fetters fast;

No chains can keep
From that long, safe sleep,
Where we join our Dead at last.”

II.

Oh, Thou who camest from far,
From the shores none living know,
And over the sea
Biddest us with Thee
To our belovëd go;

Not Thine the thunder-sign;
Silent Thou trodd'st the wave,
Hushing its strife;
But Thy touch was life,
Death was Thy fettered slave.

His Sea grew a crystal Floor,
When Thou saidst, “Its shore I know;
Trust Me: I come
From that far-off Home;
Follow Me,—to your dead ye shall go.”

Thousands obeyed Thy call,
Left all for Thee, content;

Through fire and sword,
Trusting Thy word,
Singing and glad they went.

What feverish dream of doubt,
What terror of hearts death-cold,
Has raved that from Thee
Such wrong could be
As this base wrong of old!

God, by Thy goodness proved,
Infinite by Thine Heart;
The deeds Thou hast done
A world have won;
We trust Thee for what Thou art!

Little Thy lips have said
Of that mysterious shore;
But we seek not a Place,
We seek Thy face,
And we crave to know no more.

Thou hast promised no stormless course,
Yet singing and glad we go:
Faithful and True
Thou wilt bring us through;
If not, Thou hadst told us so.

1867.