IV.
JOHN ALDEN.
NTO the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered,
Rushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by the sea-side;
Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head to the east-wind,
Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever within him.
Like an awakened conscience, the sea was moaning and tossing,
Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands of the sea-shore.
Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult of passions contending;
Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship wounded and bleeding,
Passionate cries of desire, and importunate pleadings of duty!20
“Is it my fault,” he said, “that the maiden has chosen between us?
Is it my fault that he failed,—my fault that I am the victor?”
Then within him there thundered a voice, like the voice of the Prophet:
“It hath displeased the Lord!”—and he thought of David’s transgression,
Bathsheba’s beautiful face, and his friend in the front of the battle!25
Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement and self-condemnation,
Overwhelmed him at once; and he cried in the deepest contrition:
“It hath displeased the Lord! It is the temptation of Satan!”
Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea, and beheld there
Dimly the shadowy form of the May Flower riding at anchor,30
Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the morrow;