Classic and Contemporary Poetry
GILES COREY OF THE SALEM FARMS: PROLOGUE, by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Delusions of the days that once have been Last Line: Of sabbath bells, a witch was burned or drowned. Variant Title(s): Christus: 3. The New England Tragedies: Giles Corey: Prologue Subject(s): Corey, Giles; Salem, Massachusetts; Witchcraft & Witches | ||||||||
DELUSIONS of the days that once have been, Witchcraft and wonders of the world unseen, Phantoms of air, and necromantic arts That crushed the weak and awed the stoutest hearts, -- These are our theme to-night; and vaguely here, Through the dim mists that crowd the atmosphere, We draw the outlines of weird figures cast In shadow on the background of the Past. Who would believe that in the quiet town Of Salem, and amid the woods that crown The neighboring hillsides, and the sunny farms That fold it safe in their paternal arms, -- Who would believe that in those peaceful streets, Where the great elms shut out the summer heats, Where quiet reigns, and breathes through brain and breast The benediction of unbroken rest, -- Who would believe such deeds could find a place As these whose tragic history we retrace? 'T was but a village then: the goodman ploughed His ample acres under sun or cloud; The goodwife at her doorstep sat and spun, And gossiped with her neighbors in the sun; The only men of dignity and state Were then the Minister and the Magistrate, Who ruled their little realm with iron rod, Less in the love than in the fear of God; And who believed devoutly in the Powers Of Darkness, working in this world of ours, In spells of Witchcraft, incantations dread, And shrouded apparitions of the dead. Upon this simple folk "with fire and flame," Saith the old Chronicle, "the Devil came; Scattering his firebrands and his poisonous darts, To set on fire of Hell all tongues and hearts! And 't is no wonder; for, with all his host, There most he rages where he hateth most, And is most hated; so on us he brings All these stupendous and portentous things!" Something of this our scene to-night will show; And ye who listen to the Tale of Woe, Be not too swift in casting the first stone, Nor think New England bears the guilt alone. This sudden burst of wickedness and crime Was but the common madness of the time, When in all lands, that lie within the sound Of Sabbath bells, a Witch was burned or drowned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WILD WITCHES' BALL by JACK PRELUTSKY POT MACABRE by DONALD DAVIDSON CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS TWO WITCHES: 1. THE WITCH OF COOS by ROBERT FROST TWO WITCHES: 2. THE PAUPER WITCH OF GRAFTON by ROBERT FROST THE WITCH IN THE GLASS by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT THE DRUM: THE NARRATIVE OF THE DEMON OF TEDWORTH by EDITH SITWELL A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |
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