Narrative Poems, part 7, Bay of Seven Islands | Page 3

who on the deep sea sailed,?For her at home who stayed.
Once thither came two girls from school,?And wished in childish glee?And one would be a queen and rule,?And one the world would see.
Time passed; with change of hopes and fears,?And in the self-same place,?Two women, gray with middle years,?Stood, wondering, face to face.
With wakened memories, as they met,?They queried what had been?"A poor man's wife am I, and yet,"?Said one, "I am a queen.
"My realm a little homestead is,?Where, lacking crown and throne,?I rule by loving services?And patient toil alone."
The other said: "The great world lies?Beyond me as it lay;?O'er love's and duty's boundaries?My feet may never stray.
"I see but common sights of home,?Its common sounds I hear,?My widowed mother's sick-bed room?Sufficeth for my sphere.
"I read to her some pleasant page?Of travel far and wide,?And in a dreamy pilgrimage?We wander side by side.
"And when, at last, she falls asleep,?My book becomes to me?A magic glass: my watch I keep,?But all the world I see.
"A farm-wife queen your place you fill,?While fancy's privilege?Is mine to walk the earth at will,?Thanks to the Wishing Bridge."
"Nay, leave the legend for the truth,"?The other cried, "and say?God gives the wishes of our youth,?But in His own best way!"?1882.
HOW THE WOMEN WENT FROM DOVER.
The following is a copy of the warrant issued by Major Waldron, of Dover, in 1662. The Quakers, as was their wont, prophesied against him, and saw, as they supposed, the fulfilment of their prophecy when, many years after, he was killed by the Indians.
To the constables of Dover, Hampton, Salisbury, Newbury, Rowley, Ipswich, Wenham, Lynn, Boston, Roxbury, Dedham, and until these vagabond Quakers are carried out of this jurisdiction. You, and every one of you, are required, in the King's Majesty's name, to take these vagabond Quakers, Anne Colman, Mary Tomkins, and Alice Ambrose, and make them fast to the cart's tail, and driving the cart through your several towns, to whip them upon their naked backs not exceeding ten stripes apiece on each of them, in each town; and so to convey them from constable to constable till they are out of this jurisdiction, as you will answer it at your peril; and this shall be your warrant.
RICHARD WALDRON.?Dated at Dover, December 22, 1662.
This warrant was executed only in Dover and Hampton. At Salisbury the constable refused to obey it. He was sustained by the town's people, who were under the influence of Major Robert Pike, the leading man in the lower valley of the Merrimac, who stood far in advance of his time, as an advocate of religious freedom, and an opponent of ecclesiastical authority. He had the moral courage to address an able and manly letter to the court at Salem, remonstrating against the witchcraft trials.
THE tossing spray of Cocheco's fall?Hardened to ice on its rocky wall,?As through Dover town in the chill, gray dawn,?Three women passed, at the cart-tail drawn!
Bared to the waist, for the north wind's grip?And keener sting of the constable's whip,?The blood that followed each hissing blow?Froze as it sprinkled the winter snow.
Priest and ruler, boy and maid?Followed the dismal cavalcade;?And from door and window, open thrown,?Looked and wondered gaffer and crone.
"God is our witness," the victims cried,?We suffer for Him who for all men died;?The wrong ye do has been done before,?We bear the stripes that the Master bore!
And thou, O Richard Waldron, for whom?We hear the feet of a coming doom,?On thy cruel heart and thy hand of wrong?Vengeance is sure, though it tarry long.
"In the light of the Lord, a flame we see?Climb and kindle a proud roof-tree;?And beneath it an old man lying dead,?With stains of blood on his hoary head."
"Smite, Goodman Hate-Evil!--harder still!"?The magistrate cried, "lay on with a will!?Drive out of their bodies the Father of Lies,?Who through them preaches and prophesies!"
So into the forest they held their way,?By winding river and frost-rimmed bay,?Over wind-swept hills that felt the beat?Of the winter sea at their icy feet.
The Indian hunter, searching his traps,?Peered stealthily through the forest gaps;?And the outlying settler shook his head,--?"They're witches going to jail," he said.
At last a meeting-house came in view;?A blast on his horn the constable blew;?And the boys of Hampton cried up and down,?"The Quakers have come!" to the wondering town.
From barn and woodpile the goodman came;?The goodwife quitted her quilting frame,?With her child at her breast; and, hobbling slow,?The grandam followed to see the show.
Once more the torturing whip was swung,?Once more keen lashes the bare flesh stung.?"Oh, spare! they are bleeding!"' a little maid cried,?And covered her face the sight to hide.
A murmur ran round the crowd: "Good folks,"?Quoth the constable, busy counting the strokes,?"No pity to wretches like these is due,?They have beaten the gospel black and blue!"
Then a pallid woman, in wild-eyed fear,?With her wooden noggin of milk