Whom they had mourned as dead; and they gathered and crowded about him, Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of bride and of bride groom, Questioning, answering, laughing, and each interrupting the other, Till the good Captain declared, being quite overpowered and bewildered, 5 He had rather by far break into an Indian encampment, Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited. Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the bride at the doorway, Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning. Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and sad in the sunshine, 10 Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation; There were the graves of the dead, and the barren waste of the 15 seashore, There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, and the meadows; But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the Garden of Eden, Filled with the presence of God, whose voice was the sound of the ocean. Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of de parture, Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient of longer delaying, Each with his plan for the day, and the work that was left uncom pleted. Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations of wonder, Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so proud of Priscilla, 20 Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand of its master, Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils, Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion placed for a saddle. She should not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noon-day; Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant. 25 Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by the others, Placing her hand on the cushion, her foot in the hand of her hus band, Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her palfrey. "Nothing is wanting now," he said, with a smile, "but the distaff; Then you would be in truth my queen, my beautiful Bertha!" Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habitation, Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing together. Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed the ford in the forest, Pleased with the image that passed, like a dream of love through its bosom, Tremulous, floating in air, o'er the depths of the azure abysses. 10 Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splendors, Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches above them sus pended, Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the fir-tree, Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the valley of Eshcol. Like a picture it seemed of the primitive pastoral ages, 15 Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling Rebecca and Isaac, Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful always, Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers. So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal procession. NOTES AND QUESTIONS For Biography, see page 80. Discussion. 1. Read the history of the Pilgrims' settlement at Plymouth. 2. Describe the Plymouth of the first year of the settlement. 3. How long had the Pilgrims been in their new home at the time this story opens? 4. What tells you this? 5. Find lines that tell how hard the first winter had been. 6. What tells you that the Captain had read his Caesar many times? 7. What principle of conduct did he learn from Caesar's victories? 8. When did he entirely disregard this principle? 9. What excuse did he give for not acting upon it? 10. Read the words in which John Alden tells why he will undertake the Captain's errand. 11. What ideal of friendship had he? 12. What do you think of Alden's description of his friend's character? 13. Read the lines in which Priscilla shows her love of truth and loyalty. 14. When does Miles Standish show himself most noble? 15. Who is the real hero of this poem? 16. Commit to memory lines which seem to you to express the moral truths and the high ideals which the poem puts before us. 17. Make a brief outline of the story. 18. Pronounce the following: athletic; sinews; memoirs; taciturn; aerial; impious; capacious; stalwart; subtle; hearth. misty phantoms, 434, 8 serried billows, 444, 20 22 Phrases dangers that menaced, 445, 1 on the thwarts, 447, 2 453, to be flouted, 453, 11 scabbards of wampum, 454, 11 subtle deceptions of fancy, 458, 5 sanction of earth, 461, 9 a bodiless spectral illusion, 461, 21. azure abysses, 464, 9 Never did a pilgrim approach Niagara with deeper enthusiasm than mine. I had lingered away from it, and wandered to other scenes, because my treasury of anticipated enjoyments, comprising all the wonders of the world, had nothing else so magnificent, and I 5was loath to exchange the pleasures of hope for those of memory so soon. At length the day came. The stage-coach, with a Frenchman and myself on the back seat, had already left Lewiston, and in less than an hour would set us down in Manchester. I began to listen for the roar of the cataract, and trembled with a sensation 10 like dread, as the moment drew nigh, when its voice of ages must roll, for the first time, on my ear. The French gentleman stretched himself from the window, and expressed loud admiration, while, by a sudden impulse, I threw myself back and closed my eyes. When the scene shut in, I was glad to think, that for me the whole burst 15 of Niagara was yet in futurity. We rolled on, and entered the village of Manchester, bordering on the falls. I am quite ashamed of myself here. Not that I ran like a madman to the falls, and plunged into the thickest of the spraynever stopping to breathe, till breathing was impossible; not that I committed this, or any other suitable extravagance. On the contrary, I alighted with perfect decency and composure, gave my cloak to the black waiter, pointed out my baggage, and inquired, not the nearest way to the cataract, but about the dinner-hour. The interval was spent in arranging my dress. Within the last fifteen minutes, my mind had grown strangely benumbed, and my spirits apathetic, with a slight depression, not decided enough to be termed sadness. My enthusiasm was in a deathlike slumber. Without aspiring to immortality, as he did, I could have imitated 10 that English traveler who turned back from the point where he first heard the thunder of Niagara, after crossing the ocean to behold it. Many a Western trader, by the by, has performed a similar act of heroism with more heroic simplicity, deeming it no such wonderful feat to dine at the hotel and resume his route to 15 Buffalo or Lewiston, while the cataract was roaring unseen. Such has often been my apathy, when objects, long sought, and earnestly desired, were placed within my reach. After dinner-at which an unwonted and perverse epicurism detained me longer than usual-I lighted a cigar and paced the piazza, minutely 20 attentive to the aspect and business of a very ordinary village. Finally, with reluctant step, and the feeling of an intruder, I walked toward Goat Island. At the toll-house, there were further excuses for delaying the inevitable moment. My signature was required in a huge ledger, containing similar records innumerable, 25 many of which I read. The skin of a great sturgeon, and other fishes, beasts, and reptiles; a collection of minerals, such as lie in heaps near the falls; some Indian moccasins, and other trifles, made of deer-skin and embroidered with beads; several newspapers, from Montreal, New York, and Boston-all attracted me so in turn. Out of a number of twisted sticks, the manufacture of a Tuscarora Indian, I selected one of curled maple, curiously convoluted, and adorned with the carved images of a snake and a fish. Using this as my pilgrim's staff, I crossed the bridge. Above and below me were the rapids, a river of impetuous snow, with here 35 and there a dark rock amid its whiteness, resisting all the physical fury, as any cold spirit did the moral influences of the scene. On reaching Goat Island, which separates the two great segments of |