Page:Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier (1895).djvu/136

104  For fast the streaks of ruddy sunset paled In the oak clearing, and, as daylight failed, Slow, overhead, the dusky night-birds sailed.

Again she looked: between green walls of shade, With low-bent head as if with sorrow weighed, Daniel Pastorius slowly came and said,

“God’s peace be with thee, Anna!” Then he stood Silent before her, wrestling with the mood Of one who sees the evil and not good.

“What is it, my Pastorius?” As she spoke, A slow, faint smile across his features broke, Sadder than tears. “Dear heart,” he said, “our folk

“Are even as others. Yea, our goodliest Friends Are frail; our elders have their selfish ends, And few dare trust the Lord to make amends

“For duty’s loss. So even our feeble word For the dumb slaves the startled meeting heard As if a stone its quiet waters stirred;

“And, as the clerk ceased reading, there began A ripple of dissent which downward ran In widening circles, as from man to man.

“Somewhat was said of running before sent, Of tender fear that some their guide outwent, Troublers of Israel. I was scarce intent

“On hearing, for behind the reverend row Of gallery Friends, in dumb and piteous show, I saw, methought, dark faces full of woe.

“And, in the spirit, I was taken where They toiled and suffered; I was made aware Of shame and wrath and anguish and despair!

“And while the meeting smothered our poor plea With cautious phrase, a Voice there seemed to be, ‘As ye have done to these ye do to me!’

“So it all passed; and the old tithe went on Of anise, mint, and cumin, till the sun Set, leaving still the weightier work undone.

“Help, for the good man faileth! Who is strong, If these be weak? Who shall rebuke the wrong, If these consent? How long, O Lord! how long!”

He ceased; and, bound in spirit with the bound, With folded arms, and eyes that sought the ground, Walked musingly his little garden round.

About him, beaded with the falling dew, Rare plants of power and herbs of healing grew, Such as Van Helmont and Agrippa knew.

For, by the lore of Gorlitz’ gentle sage, With the mild mystics of his dreamy age He read the herbal signs of nature’s page,

As once he heard in sweet Von Merlau’s bowers Fair as herself, in boyhood’s happy hours, The pious Spener read his creed in flowers.

“The dear Lord give us patience!” said his wife, Touching with finger-tip an aloe, rife With leaves sharp-pointed like an Aztec knife

Or Carib spear, a gift to William Penn From the rare gardens of John Evelyn, Brought from the Spanish Main by merchantmen.

“See this strange plant its steady purpose hold, And, year by year, its patient leaves unfold, Till the young eyes that watched it first are old.

“But some time, thou hast told me, there shall come