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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE NEW ZEALAND MISSIONARY by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY

Poet Analysis

First Line: TWAS NIGHT, AND IN HIS TENT HE LAY
Last Line: "FOR CHRIST, MY MASTER'S SAKE."
Subject(s): MISSIONS & MISSIONARIES; NEW ZEALAND;
"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 the 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,
Nor 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."



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