Zinzendorff and Other Poems/The New-Zealand Missionary

4049335Zinzendorff and Other PoemsThe New-Zealand Missionary1836Lydia Huntley Sigourney


THE NEW-ZEALAND MISSIONARY.

"We cannot let him go. He says he is going to return to England,—the ship is here to take him away. But no,—we will keep him, and make him our slave; not our slave to fetch wood and draw water but our talking slave. Yes,—he shall be our slave, to talk to and to teach us. Keep him we will."—Speech of Rev. Mr. Yates, at the Anniversary of the Church Missionary Society, London, May, 1835.

'Twas night, and in his tent he lay,
    Upon a heathen shore,
While wildly on his wakeful ear
    The ocean's billows roar;
'Twas midnight, and the war-club rang
    Upon his threshold stone,
And heavy feet of savage men
    Came fiercely tramping on.

Loud were their tones in fierce debate,
    The chieftain and his clan,

"He shall not go,—he shall not go,
    That missionary man;
For him the swelling sail doth spread,
    The tall ship ride the wave,
But we will chain him to our coast,
    Yes, he shall be our slave:

Not from the groves our wood to bear,
    Nor water from the vale,
Not in the battle-front to stand,
    Where proudest foe-men quail,
Nor the great war-canoe to guide,
    Where crystal streams turn red;
But he shall be our slave to break
    The soul its living bread."

Then slowly peer'd the rising moon,
    Above the forest-height,
And bathed each cocoa's leafy crown
    In tides of living light:
To every cabin's grassy thatch
    A gift of beauty gave,
And with a crest of silver cheer'd
    Pacific's sullen wave.

But o'er that gentle scene, a shout
    In sudden clangor came,
"Come forth, come forth, thou man of God,
    And answer to our claim:"
So down to those dark island-men,
    He bow'd him as he spake,
"Behold, your servant will I be
    For Christ, my Master's sake."