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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420543" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>John Underhill</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A score of years had come and gone<br>Since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth stone,<br>When Captain Underhill, bearing scars<br>From Indian ambush and Flemish wars,<br>Left three-hilled Boston and wandered down,<br>East by north, to Cocheco town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With Vane the younger, in counsel sweet,<br>He had sat at Anna Hutchinson's feet,<br>And, when the bolt of banishment fell<br>On the head of his saintly oracle,<br>He had shared her ill as her good report,<br>And braved the wrath of the General Court.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He shook from his feet as he rode away<br>The dust of the Massachusetts Bay.<br>The world might bless and the world might ban,<br>What did it matter the perfect man,<br>To whom the freedom of earth was given,<br>Proof against sin, and sure of heaven?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He cheered his heart as he rode along<br>With screed of Scripture and holy song,<br>Or thought how he rode with his lances free<br>By the Lower Rhine and the Zuyder-Zee,<br>Till his wood-path grew to a trodden road,<br>And Hilton Point in the distance showed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He saw the church with the block-house nigh,<br>The two fair rivers, the flakes thereby,<br>And, tacking to windward, low and crank,<br>The little shallop from Strawberry Bank;<br>And he rose in his stirrups and looked abroad<br>Over land and water, and praised the Lord.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Goodly and stately and grave to see,<br>Into the clearing's space rode he,<br>With the sun on the hilt of his sword in sheath,<br>And his silver buckles and spurs beneath,<br>And the settlers welcomed him, one and all,<br>From swift Quampeagan to Gonic Fall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he said to the elders: 'Lo, I come<br>As the way seemed open to seek a home.<br>Somewhat the Lord hath wrought by my hands<br>In the Narragansett and Netherlands,<br>And if here ye have work for a Christian man,<br>I will tarry, and serve ye as best I can.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I boast not of gifts, but fain would own<br>The wonderful favor God hath shown,<br>The special mercy vouchsafed one day<br>On the shore of Narragansett Bay,<br>As I sat, with my pipe, from the camp aside,<br>And mused like Isaac at eventide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'A sudden sweetness of peace I found,<br>A garment of gladness wrapped me round;<br>I felt from the law of works released,<br>The strife of the flesh and spirit ceased,<br>My faith to a full assurance grew,<br>And all I had hoped for myself I knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now, as God appointeth, I keep my way,<br>I shall not stumble, I shall not stray;<br>He hath taken away my fig-leaf dress,<br>I wear the robe of His righteousness;<br>And the shafts of Satan no more avail<br>Than Pequot arrows on Christian mail.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tarry with us,' the settlers cried,<br>'Thou man of God, as our ruler and guide.'<br>And Captain Underhill bowed his head.<br>'The will of the Lord be done!' he said.<br>And the morrow beheld him sitting down<br>In the ruler's seat in Cocheco town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he judged therein as a just man should;<br>His words were wise and his rule was good;<br>He coveted not his neighbor's land,<br>From the holding of bribes he shook his hand;<br>And through the camps of the heathen ran<br>A wholesome fear of the valiant man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the heart is deceitful, the good Book saith,<br>And life hath ever a savor of death.<br>Through hymns of triumph the tempter calls,<br>And whoso thinketh he standeth falls.<br>Alas! ere their round the seasons ran,<br>There was grief in the soul of the saintly man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tempter's arrows that rarely fail<br>Had found the joints of his spiritual mail;<br>And men took note of his gloomy air,<br>The shame in his eye, the halt in his prayer,<br>The signs of a battle lost within,<br>The pain of a soul in the coils of sin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then a whisper of scandal linked his name<br>With broken vows and a life of blame;<br>And the people looked askance on him<br>As he walked among them sullen and grim,<br>Ill at ease, and bitter of word,<br>And prompt of quarrel with hand or sword.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">None knew how, with prayer and fasting still,<br>He strove in the bonds of his evil will;<br>But he shook himself like Samson at length,<br>And girded anew his loins of strength,<br>And bade the crier go up and down<br>And call together the wondering town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jeer and murmur and shaking of head<br>Ceased as he rose in his place and said<br>'Men, brethren, and fathers, well ye know<br>How I came among you a year ago,<br>Strong in the faith that my soul was freed<br>From sin of feeling, or thought, or deed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I have sinned, I own it with grief and shame,<br>But not with a lie on my lips I came.<br>In my blindness I verily thought my heart<br>Swept and garnished in every part.<br>He chargeth His angels with folly; He sees<br>The heavens unclean. Was I more than these?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I urge no plea. At your feet I lay<br>The trust you gave me, and go my way.<br>Hate me or pity me, as you will,<br>The Lord will have mercy on sinners still;<br>And I, who am chiefest, say to all,<br>Watch and pray, lest ye also fall.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No voice made answer: a sob so low<br>That only his quickened ear could know<br>Smote his heart with a bitter pain,<br>As into the forest he rode again,<br>And the veil of its oaken leaves shut down<br>On his latest glimpse of Cocheco town.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Crystal-clear on the man of sin<br>The streams flashed up, and the sky shone in;<br>On his cheek of fever the cool wind blew,<br>The leaves dropped on him their tears of dew,<br>And angels of God, in the pure, sweet guise<br>Of flowers, looked on him with sad surprise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was his ear at fault that brook and breeze<br>Sang in their saddest of minor keys?<br>What was it the mournful wood-thrush said?<br>What whispered the pine-trees overhead?<br>Did he hear the Voice on his lonely way<br>That Adam heard in the cool of day?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into the desert alone rode he,<br>Alone with the Infinite Purity;<br>And, bowing his soul to its tender rebuke,<br>As Peter did to the Master's look,<br>He measured his path with prayers of pain<br>For peace with God and nature again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in after years to Cocheco came<br>The bruit of a once familiar name;<br>How among the Dutch of New Netherlands,<br>From wild Danskamer to Haarlem sands,<br>A penitent soldier preached the Word,<br>And smote the heathen with Gideon's sword!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the heart of Boston was glad to hear<br>How he harried the foe on the long frontier,<br>And heaped on the land against him barred<br>The coals of his generous watch and ward.<br>Frailest and bravest! the Bay State still<br>Counts with her worthies John Underhill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420543" data-title="John Underhill de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="A score of years had come and gone
Since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth stone,
When Captain Underhill, bearing scars
From Indian ambush and Flemish wars,
Left three-hilled Boston and wandered down,
East by north, to Cocheco town.

With Vane the y..."></div>
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