Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;
Too soon my heartless spirit failed;
When you were gone my limbs were stronger,
And Oh how grievously I rue,
That, afterwards, a little longer,
My friends, I did not follow you!
Too soon my heartless spirit failed;
When you were gone my limbs were stronger,
And Oh how grievously I rue,
That, afterwards, a little longer,
My friends, I did not follow you!
Coleridge - Lyrical Ballads
"
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 is unable to follow, or overtake
them, he perishes alone in the Desart; unless he should have the good
fortune to fall in with some other Tribes of Indians. It is unnecessary
to add that 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_. When the Northern Lights, as the same writer
informs us, vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a
crackling noise. This circumstance is alluded to in the first stanza of
the following poem. _]
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 sleep did I behold the skies,
I saw the crackling 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!
My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
Yet is it dead, and I remain.
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.
Alas! you might have dragged me on
Another day, a single one!
Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;
Too soon my heartless spirit failed;
When you 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,
My friends, when you were gone away.
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 something 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 little child.
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.
Oh 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, you went away;
For I had many things to say.
I'll follow you across the snow,
You travel heavily and slow:
In spite of all my weary pain,
I'll look upon your tents again.
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 is unable to follow, or overtake
them, he perishes alone in the Desart; unless he should have the good
fortune to fall in with some other Tribes of Indians. It is unnecessary
to add that 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_. When the Northern Lights, as the same writer
informs us, vary their position in the air, they make a rustling and a
crackling noise. This circumstance is alluded to in the first stanza of
the following poem. _]
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 sleep did I behold the skies,
I saw the crackling 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!
My fire is dead: it knew no pain;
Yet is it dead, and I remain.
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.
Alas! you might have dragged me on
Another day, a single one!
Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;
Too soon my heartless spirit failed;
When you 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,
My friends, when you were gone away.
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 something 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 little child.
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.
Oh 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, you went away;
For I had many things to say.
I'll follow you across the snow,
You travel heavily and slow:
In spite of all my weary pain,
I'll look upon your tents again.
