II. The Arrest.
A party sent by Randolph, with Willoby the cavalier at their head, surprise them. — Willoby offers to let them go, if Oliver will declare that this person is not Goffe. — Meeting with Randolph.
III. Rescue.
The whole party are surprised by the Sakonets. — Goffe and Willoby escape. — Randolph and Oliver are taken, and carried to the encampment of the Sachems. — Oliver is recognised and welcomed. — Randolph is to be burnt, but Oliver obtains his life and safe dismission: they separate.
XVIII. Defeat of the Indians.
Goffe meanwhile has rallied some stragglers, who attack and defeat the Sakonet party, and take some; for whom Oliver intercedes, engaging for them that they shall commit no more hostilities. — He then goes with these Indians to negotiate with their tribe.
XIX. Annabel a Prisoner.
While this discussion is going on, Annabel is brought in a prisoner by the renegade; in the dispute which ensues, Oliver kills him. This is the point in which Oliver’s passiveness is to give way to a just wrath. Before he knocks out the fellow’s brains he stands “trembling, but not with fear.”
XX. Peace.
The Sakonet tribe make peace with the English; Oliver going with the chiefs to the English head-quarters to sign it. — The Mohawk, whom he had saved in the forest, meets him there, at the head of his party.
XXI. Death of Philip
Oliver’s services are now clearly seen. — Randolph solicits for him a grant of land. — Willoby gives him his daughter, and Russell marries them. — Pamya’s children baptized.
MISCELLANEOUS POETICAL REMAINS
CONTENTS
FRAGMENTARY THOUGHTS OCCASIONED BY HIS SON’S DEATH.
SHORT PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE, RHYTHMICALLY ARRANGED OR PARAPHRASED.
LITTLE BOOK, IN GREEN AND GOLD.
LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF ROTHA Q.
IMAGINATION AND REALITY.
MADRIGAL, TRANSLATED FROM LUIS MARTIN.
MOHAMMED; A FRAGMENT, WRITTEN IN 1799.
Southey by John Graham Lough, marble bust, 1845
FRAGMENTARY THOUGHTS OCCASIONED BY HIS SON’S DEATH.
Thy life was a day, and sum it well, life is but a
week of such days, — with how much storm, and
cold, and darkness! Thine was a sweet spring holy-
day, — a vernal Sabbath, all sunshine, hope, and
promise.
and that name
In sacred silence buried, which was still
At morn and eve the never-wearying theme
Of dear discourse.
playful thoughts
Turn’d now to gall and esel.
He to whom Heaven in mercy hath assign’d
Life’s wholesome wormwood, fears no bitterness when
From th’ hand of Death he drinks the Amreeta cup.
Beauties of Nature, — the passion of my youth,
Nursed up and ripen’d to a settled love,
Whereto my heart is wedded.
Feeling at Westminster, when summer evening
sent a sadness to my heart, and I sate pining for
green fields, and banks of flowers, and running
streams, — or dreaming of Avon and her rocks and
woods.
No more great attempts, only a few autumnal
flowers, like second primroses, &c.
They who look for me in our Father’s kingdom
Will look for Him also; inseparably
Shall we be so remember’d.
The Grave the house of Hope:
It is the haven whither we are bound
On the rough sea of life, and thence she lands
In her own country, on the immortal shore.
Come, then,
Pain and Infirmity — appointed guests,
My heart is ready.
My soul
Needed perhaps a longer discipline,
Or sorer penance, here.
A respite something like repose is gain’d
While I invoke them, and the troubled tide
Of feeling, for a while allay’d, obeys
A tranquillising influence, that might seem
By some benign intelligence dispensed,
Who lends an ear to man.
They are not, though,
Mere unrealities: rather, I ween,
The ancient Poets, in the graceful garb
Of fiction, have transmitted earliest truths,
Ill understood; adorning, as they deem’d,
With mythic tales things erringly received,
And mingling with primeval verities
Their own devices vain. For what to us
Scripture assures, by searching proof confirm’d,
And inward certainty of sober Faith,
Tradition unto them deliver’d down
Changed and corrupted in the course of time,
And haply also by delusive art
Of Evil Powers. —
SHORT PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE, RHYTHMICALLY ARRANGED OR PARAPHRASED.
JEREM. VI. 4.
Woe unto us!
For the day goeth down,
For the shadows of evening
Are lengthen’d out.
JER. EX. 23 — 4.
Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom,
Let not the rich man glory in his riches,
Let not the mighty glory in his might,
But in only this let him that glorieth, glory,
That he knoweth the Lord, the Lord of infinite mercy,
Who exerciseth on the earth
His loving-kindness and his righteousness.
JER. XIII. 16.
Give glory to the Lord your God!
Lest, while ye look for light,
He bring the darkness on,
And the feet that advanced
With haughty step,
Marching astray in their pride,
Stumble and fail
In the shadow of death.
JER. XLVII. 6, 7.
Sword of the Lord! how long
Ere thou be quiet? O thou sword, how long?
Put up thyself
Into thy scabbard,
Rest and be still.
JER. XLIX. 7.
From the prudent hath counsel departed?
Is wisdom no more in the land?
Hath it utterly perish’d?
Is it vanish’d and gone?
JER. L. 25.
... the Lord
Open’d his armoury, and brought forth
The weapons of his wrath.
Jer. L. 15.
Ye nations, shout against her round about;
Take vengeance upon her.
It is the vengeance of the Lord,
As she hath done, do unto her.
LUKE, III. 5.
When every valley shall be filled,
And every mountain be brought low;
The crooked be made straight,
The rough ways smooth.
LAMENTATIONS, III. 44.
The Lord
Cover’d himself with a cloud,
That the prayer should not pass through.
HOSEA, x. 12, 13.
Break up your fallow-ground,
Sow to yourselves in righteousness, and reap
In mercy; it is time to seek the Lord.
Ye have plough’d wickedness, and ye have reap’d
Iniquity: the fruit of lies hath been
Your harvest and your food.
DANIEL, IX. 7, 8, 9. 18.
To Thee belongeth righteousness, O Lord!
Confusion and shame to us;
To our kings and our princes,
Our priests and our rulers,
Ourselves and our children,
Because we have sinned against Thee.
But mercies and forgivenesses belong
To Thee, O Lord our God,
Rebellious though we be.
Incline thine ear, and hear;
&nbs
p; Open thine eyes, and pitifully see
Our sins, our miseries,
The impending punishment,
Too long, too much deserved.
AMOS, V. 8.
Who calleth for the waters of the sea,
And poureth them in seasonable rain
Upon the face of earth.
NAHUM, I. 3 — 8.
The Lord hath his way in the whirlwind,
The Lord hath his way in the storm,
The clouds are the dust of his feet,
And darkness shall pursue his enemies.
NAIIUM, III. 15. 17.
There shall the fire devour thee,
The sword shall cut thee off.
Make thyself many as the canker-worm,
As the locusts make thyself many.
Thou hast multiplied thy merchants
Above the stars of heaven!
But the canker-worm spoileth,
Then fleeth away,
And his place is not found.
1 KINGS, VIII. 23. 27. 30.
Lord God of Israel!
There is no God like Thee,
In heaven above, or on the earth beneath,
Who keepest covenant
And mercy with thy servants, when with all
Their heart they walk before Thee.
.... will God indeed
Dwell on the earth? Behold, the heaven, and heaven
Of heavens, cannot contain Thee; how much less
This house that man hath builded!
.... hear Thou in heaven, thy dwelling-place;
And when Thou hearest, O Lord God, forgive!
ISAIAH, xxv. 1. 4. 7.
Thy counsels, Lord, of old,
Are faithfulness and truth.
A strength to the weak hast thou been,
A help to the poor in his need,
A refuge from the storm,
A shadow from the heat.
The covering that is cast
Over all people shall be then removed,
And the veil that is spread
Over all nations be taken away.
ISAIAH, XXVI. 3. 5. 8.
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stay’d on Thee.
He bringeth down them that dwell on high;
The lofty city He layeth it low,
He layeth it low to the ground,
He bringeth it down to the dust:
The foot shall tread it down,
The feet of the poor and the needy.
In the way of thy judgments,
O Lord, have we waited for Thee.
ISAIAH, XXVIII. 15. 17. 18.
They have made lies their refuge,
And under falsehood have they hid themselves;
Their covenant is with death, with hell
The agreement wherein they trust.
O fools! O miserables!
The covenant shall be annull’d,
The agreement shall not stand.
By the storm shall their refuge be swept away,
Their hiding-place
By the flood be overflown.
ISAIAH, XXVIII. 16.
In Zion the foundation hath been laid,
A precious corner-stone, a sure foundation.
ISAIAH, XXXI. 3.
When the Lord shall put forth his anger,
Then both he that helpeth shall fall, and he that is holpen.
ISAIAH, LVII. 1.
The righteous perisheth,
And none layeth it to heart!
The merciful man
Is taken away
From the evil to come.
EZEKIEL, VII. 5, 6, 7. 12.
An evil, an only evil,
Behold, is come! an end
Is come, — the end is come!
It watcheth for thee, behold it is come.
The time of trouble is near,
The morning is gone forth;
Behold the day is come.
Let not the buyer rejoice,
Nor let the seller mourn,
For wrath, the wrath of God,
Is upon all the multitudes thereof.
EZEKIEL, XXII. 7, 8. 14.
In thee have they set light
By venerable age,
By natural piety.
In thee God’s holy things have they despised,
God’s sabbaths have profaned.
Oh can thine heart endure,
Or can thine hand be strong,
When God shall deal with thee?
LITTLE BOOK, IN GREEN AND GOLD.
Little Book, in green and gold,
Thou art thus bedight to hold
Robert Southey’s Album Rhymes,
Wrung from him in busy times:
Not a few to his vexation,
By importune application;
Some in half-sarcastic strain,
More against than with the grain;
Other some, he must confess,
Bubbles blown in idleness;
Some in earnest, some in jest,
Good for little at the best:
Yet, because his Daughter dear
Would collect them fondly here,
Little Book, in gold and green,
Thou art not unfitly seen
Thus apparell’d for her pleasure,
Like the casket of a treasure.
Other owner, well I know,
Never more can prize thee so.
Little Book, when thou art old,
Time will dim thy green and gold.
Little Book, thou wilt outlive
The pleasure thou wert made to give:
Dear domestic recollections,
Home-born loves, and old affections,
Incommunicable they:
And when these have past away,
As perforce they must, from earth,
Where is then thy former worth?
Other value, then, I ween,
Little Book, may supervene,
Happily if unto some
Thou in due descent shouldst come,
Who would something find in thee
Like a relic’s sanctity,
And in whom thou may’st awake,
For thy former owner’s sake,
A pious thought, a natural sigh,
A feeling of mortality.
When those feelings, and that race,
Have in course of time given place,
Little worth, and little prized,
Disregarded or despised,
Thou wilt then be bought and sold,
In thy faded green and gold.
Then, unless some curious eye
Thee upon the shelf should spy,
Dust will gather on thee there,
And the worms, that never spare,
Feed their fill within, and hide,
Burrowing safely in thy side,
Till transfigured out they come
From that emblem of the tomb:
Or, by mould and damp consumed,
Thou to perish may’st be doom’d.
But if some collector find thee,
He will, as a prize, re-bind thee;
And thou may’st again be seen
Gayly drest in gold and green.
9th September, 1831.
LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF ROTHA Q.
ROTHA, after long delays,
Since thy hook must cross the Raise,
Down I sit to turn a stave,
Be it gay or he it grave.
Wiser wish than what thy name
Prompts for thee I cannot frame;
No where find a better theme
Than thy native namesake stream.
Lovelier river is there none
Underneath an English sun;
From its source it issues bright
Upon hoar Hellvellyn’s height,
Flowing where its summer voice
Makes the mountain herds rejoice;
Down the dale it issues then;
Not polluted there by men
;
While its lucid waters take
Their pastoral course from lake to lake,
Please the eye in every part,
Lull the ear, and soothe the heart,
Till into Windermere sedate
They flow and uncontaminate.
Rotha, such from youth to age
Be thy mortal pilgrimage;
Thus in childhood blithe and free,
Thus in thy maturity,
Blest and blessing, may it be;
And a course, in welfare past,
Thus serenely close at last.
IMAGINATION AND REALITY.
THE hill was in the sunshine gay and green,
The vale below could not be seen;
A cloud hung over it,
A thin white cloud, that scarce was seen to fly,
So slowly did it flit;
Yet cloud methinks I err in calling it,
It spread so evenly along the sky.
It gave the hills beyond a hue
So beautiful and blue,
That I stood loitering for the view:
Loitering and musing thoughtfully stood I,
For well those hills I knew,
And many a time had travell’d them all o’er;
Yet now such change the hazy air had wrought,
That I could well have thought
I never had beheld the scene before.
But while I gazed the cloud was passing by;
On the slow air it slowly travell’d on,
Eftsoon and that deceitful haze was gone,
Which had beguiled me with its mockery;
And all things seem’d again the things they were.
Alas! but then they were not half so fair
As I had shaped them in the hazy air!
MADRIGAL, TRANSLATED FROM LUIS MARTIN.
[This poem is selected for publication from a small volume of translations, because, having been printed before in a newspaper, it attracted the attention of Mr. D’Israeli, who has inserted it in the “Curiosities of Literature,” as a beautiful specimen of a kind of extravagance characteristic of Spanish poetry. It seemed, therefore, worth while to place it among the poems of the Translator.]
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 198