18. And thus when exiled from the dear-loved scene, The wondering mind of youth, the thoughtful heart of age. 19. But of his native speech because well nigh A garrulous, but a lively tale, and fraught 20. Little he deem'd when with his Indian band He through the wilds set forth upon his way, Which had proscribed his order, should one day And shape a song that, with no fiction drest, Should to his worth its grateful tribute pay, And sinking deep in many an English breast, Foster that faith divine that keeps the heart at rest. 21. Behold him on his way! the breviary By night it is the pillar of his bed; No other lodging these wild woods can yield Than earth's hard lap, and rustling overhead A canopy of deep and tangled boughs far spread. 22. Yet may they not without some cautious care And trample down the grass and plantage round, 23. And now they heap dry reeds and broken wood; The spark is struck, the crackling faggots blaze, And cheer that unaccustom'd solitude. Soon have they made their frugal meal of maize; In grateful adoration then they raise The evening hymn. How solemn in the wild That sweet accordant strain wherewith they praise The Queen of Angels, merciful and mild: Hail, holiest Mary! Maid, and Mother undefiled. 24. Blame as thou may'st the Papist's erring creed, But not their salutary rite of even ! The prayers that from a pious soul proceed, Though misdirected, reach the ear of Heaven. Us unto whom a purer faith is given, As our best birthright it behoves to hold The precious charge; but, oh, beware the leaven Which makes the heart of charity grow cold! We own one Shepherd, we shall be at last one fold. 25. Thinkest thou the little company who here Pour forth their hymn devout at close of day, Feel it no aid that those who hold them dear, At the same hour the self-same homage pay, Commending them to Heaven when far away? That the sweet bells are heard in solemn chime Through all the happy towns of Paraguay, Where now their brethren in one point of time Join in the general prayer, with sympathy sublime? 26. That to the glorious Mother of their Lord In spirit hears and joins his household's even-song. 27. What if they think that every prayer enroll'd Yet what they feel is not a mere illusive dream. 28. That prayer perform'd, around the fire reclined Beneath the leafy canopy they lay Their limbs the Indians soon to sleep resign'd; And the good Father with that toilsome day Fatigued, full fain to sleep, . . . if sleep he may, Whom all tormenting insects there assail; More to be dreaded these than beasts of prey Against whom strength may cope, or skill prevail, But art of man against these enemies must fail. 29. Patience itself that should the sovereign cure For ills that touch ourselves alone, supply, Lends little aid to one who must endure This plague the small tormentors fill the sky, And swarm about their prey; there he must lie And suffer while the hours of darkness wear; At times he utters with a deep-drawn sigh Some name adored, in accents of despair Breathed sorrowfully forth, half murmur and half prayer. 30. Welcome to him the earliest gleam of light; A quest like his is cheerfully pursued, 31. And now where Empalado's waters creep Through low and level shores of woodland wide, They come; prepared to cross the sluggish deep, An ill-shaped coracle of hardest hide, Ruder than ever Cambrian fisher plied Where Towey and the salt-sea waters meet, The Indians launch; they steady it and guide, Winning their way with arms and practised feet, While in the tottering boat the Father keeps his seat. 32. For three long summer days on every side And through the mazes of the pathless wood With hound-like skill and hawk-like eye pursued ; The slightest mark of man, they there explore the way. |