Like an organ's swell
Into sacred music turned.
While, like a Baldachin, o'erhead
The spray-cloud, in its glory, spread
Its crest, by the setting sun illumed,
The form of a holy Cross assumed.
The vision gone, the Priest once more
Stood, simply on the Island's shore.
Slowly he climbed the bank again,
And into the forest passed,
His body weak with cold and pain
From his long and sleepless fast.
Little he cared for the food and rest
His mortal being craved,
He only thought, how, at his behest,
The Chief and warriors had confessed
Belief in God, and had been blest,
And their souls might thus be saved.
Again, amongst the trees he knelt,
Expressive of the joy he felt.
In worship, loud, his voice he raised,
His tones through the forest rang,
As the ever-living God he praised,
And the "Jubilate" sang.
The twilight passed, but the aged Priest
From his adorations had not ceased;
The darkness came, but his only thought
Was praise of Him whose word he taught;
The moon arose, and found him there,
Still in the attitude of prayer.
But when in the Heavens, high and clear
She stood, and midnight's hour was near,
He rose and went to the rocky beach,
Where alone the Island one may reach.
Soon the Chief, in his birchen bark,
Came swiftly over the waters dark,
And reaching the Island's shore
Cried, "As God's follower, receive
An erring man. I now believe
In Him, forevermore."
As the Priest to meet him came
He said, "Baptize me, in His name."
The Priest bent down to the river's bed
And dipped his hand in the wave,
Then bade him kneel, and on his head
Poured the water, and joyously said,
"Your soul I hereby save.
First convert of the Neuter race,
Upon your forehead, thus, I trace
The Cross's holy sign;
And thereby, as you now believe
In God's omnipotence, receive
You into His Church divine.
And, in the Faith you have confessed,
I bless you, and you shall be blest."
But meanwhile many a bark canoe,
Bearing those Neuter warriors true
Was rapidly coming down the tide,
Along the path, where the waves divide.
As the Isle these warriors reached,
Their frail canoes they safely beached,
Then stepped to the Chieftain's side;
Beneath that grand primeval wood
In awe-felt silence, there they stood.
It was a noble sight, and good,
For the Priest, in his holy pride.
For of the bravest of the land
Was that converted warrior band,
All firm in their new Belief;
And, on this wondrous Island's sod,
Before that holy man of God,
Knelt their baptizéd Chief.