THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN

INDIAN WOMAN.

[When a Northern Indian, from sickness, is unable to continue his journey with his companions, he is left behind, covered over with deer-skins, and is supplied with water, food, and fuel, if the situation of the place will afford it. He is informed of the track which his companions intend to pursue, and if he be unable to follow, or overtake them, he perishes alone in the desert; unless he should have the good fortune to fall in with some other tribes of Indians. The females are equally, or still more, exposed to the same fate. See that very interesting work HEARNE'S JOURNEY from HUDSON'S BAY to the NORTHERN OCEAN. In the high northern latitudes, as the same writer informs us, when the northern lights vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a crackling noise, as alluded to in the following poem.]

I.

BEFORE I see another day,

Oh let my body die away!

In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars, they were among my dreams;
In rustling conflict through the skies,
I heard, I saw the flashes drive,*
And yet they are upon my eyes,
And yet I am alive;

Before I see another day,

Oh let my body die away!

II.

My fire is dead: it knew no pain ;
Yet is it dead, and I remain :

* I saw the crackling flashes drive.-Edit. 1815.

All stiff with ice the ashes lie;

And they are dead, and I will die.
When I was well, I wished to live,

For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire;
But they to me no joy can give,

No pleasure now, and no desire.
Then here contented will I lie !
Alone, I cannot fear to die.

III.

Alas! ye might have dragged me on

Another day, a single one!

Too soon I yielded to despair;

Why did ye listen to my prayer?

When ye were gone my limbs were stronger;

And oh, how grievously I rue,
That, afterwards, a little longer,
My friends, I did not follow you!
For strong and without pain I lay,
Dear friends, when ye were gone away.

IV.

My Child! they gave thee to another,
A woman who was not thy mother.
When from my arms my Babe they took,
On me how strangely did he look!
Through his whole body something ran,
A most strange working did I see ;
-As if he strove to be a man,

That he might pull the sledge for me:
And then he stretched his arms, how wild!
Oh mercy! like a helpless child.

THE COMPLAINT OF A FORSAKEN INDIAN WOMAN. 97

V.

My little joy! my little pride!

In two days more I must have died.
Then do not weep and grieve for me;
I feel I must have died with thee.
O wind, that o'er my head art flying
The way my friends their course did bend,
I should not feel the pain of dying,
Could I with thee a message send ;
Too soon, my friends, ye went away;
For I had many things to say.

VI.

I'll follow you across the snow;
Ye travel heavily and slow;
In spite of all my weary pain
I'll look upon your tents again.
-My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood :
The wolf has come to me to-night,
And he has stolen away my food.
For ever left alone am I;

Then wherefore should I fear to die?

VII.

Young as I am, my course is run,

I shall not see another sun;

I cannot lift my limbs to know

If they have any life or no.
My poor forsaken Child, if I

For once could have thee close to me,

H

With happy heart I then would die,
And my last thought would happy be;
But thou, dear Babe, art far away,
Nor shall I see another day.*

THE LAST OF THE FLOCK.†

I.

IN distant countries have I been,
And yet I have not often seen
A healthy man, a man full grown,
Weep in the public roads, alone.
But such a one, on English ground,
And in the broad highway, I met ;
Along the broad highway he came,
His cheeks with tears were wet :
Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;
And in his arms a Lamb he had.

1798.

II.

He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide :
And with his coat did then essay
To wipe those briny tears away.
I followed him, and said, "My friend,
What ails you? wherefore weep you so?"
-"Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,
He makes my tears to flow.

* In the earlier editions the poem ends with the sixth stanza.

† Written at Alfoxden, 1798. Mr. Wordsworth said the incident occurred in the village of Holford, near Alfoxden.

To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock.

III.

When I was young, a single man,
And after youthful follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, an ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see;
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;

Of sheep I numbered a full score,
And
every year increased my store.

IV.

Year after year my stock it grew;
And from this one, this single ewe,
Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
As fine a flock as ever grazed!
Upon the Quantock hills they fed;
They throve, and we at home did thrive :
-This lusty Lamb of all my store

Is all that is alive;

And now I care not if we die,

And perish all of poverty.

V.

Six Children, Sir! had I to feed ;
Hard labour in a time of need!

My pride was tamed, and in our grief
I of the Parish asked relief.