How he had pierced the wild duck on the wing; How westward lately he the moose pursued,

Until he struck him far in lone Mooshausick's wood.

LXXXIII.

Slightly our founder tasted the plain fare,

For toil and chill far more than hunger prest, This Waban noted and with tender care,

The vacant pallet shewed, and urged him rest ; Waban he said would still the fire repair,

And comfortable keep his pale-faced guest, "And may the Manitto of dreams," he said, "The happiest visions on thy slumbers shed.

66

LXXXIV.

Upon this pallet once was wont to lay

Her active form, whose spirit now is gone; And may that spirit to thy visions say

Where now she dwells, and where my little son; Whether on that blest island far away

O'er the blue hills beyond the setting sun, They with their kindred joy, or nearer home, They wait until the sire and husband come."

LXXXV.

Williams replied, that he would speak at morn,

Of that far journey which the spirit takes; And name the guide, who never soul forlorn,

Whilst passing through death's gloomy night, forsakes. His brother then, on fitting day in turn,

Would name the bounds, by rivers, bays and lakes,
Of neighboring chiefs, and how each sagamore
Might stand affected to his purpose pure.

LXXXVI.

Our founder slept; and on that night I ween,
Deep was the slumber of that pallet low,

Calm were its dreams as was his breast serene

Such sleep can persecutors never know;
He slept, until the dawning light was seen
Down through the dome to glance upon his brow;
Then Waban woke him to his simple cheer

Of the pure fount, nausamp,* and savory deer.

*The word samp is a corruption of the Indian word nausamp, and has the same meaning.

CANTO SECOND.

It was the morning of a Sabbath day,

When Williams rose to Waban's simple cheer, But where, knew not, save that vast forests lay Betwixt his home and the lone wigwam here; Yet 'twas a place of peace, no thing of clay,

'Twixt God and conscience in communion near, Came, with profane and impious control,

To check the heavenward wanderings of his soul.

II.

God loves the wilderness-in deserts lone,

Where all is silent-where no living thing

Mars the hushed solitudes-where Heaven looks down, And Earth looks up, each as if marvelling

That aught should be, and, through the vast unknown,
Thought-breathing silence seems as uttering

The present God-there does he rear his throne,
And tranced in boundless thoughts the soul doth own,

III.

And feel his strength within.-This day, once more,
In place thus sacred; did our founder keep;
None, save the Deity he bent before,

Marked the devotions of his feelings deep-
None do I say? yet there was Waban poor;

Alas! his mind in utter night did sleep; He saw our founder at his earnest prayer, Yet knew not why his supplications were.

IV.

Yet earnestly the pious man besought,

That Heaven would give to shed the gospel light, On the kind pagan's breast, as yet untaught,

Save in the ways of an Egyptian night;

And much he prayed, that to the truth when brought,
Washed of his sins in garments pure and white,
He might assist to soothe each savage train,
And win a home for persecuted men.

V.

Williams the task of goodness now essayed,
To light the wanderer with religion true;
The tenfold darkness, that his soul arrayed,

Concealed its workings from our founder's view;
Save when some query rare, and strangely made,
Did its dream-wildered wakening instinct shew-
Long was the task; and Williams back began,
At Earth's creation and the fall of man.

VI.

He told how God from nothing formed the earth,
And gave each being shape surpassing fair;
How He in Eden, at their happy birth,

Placed with kind blessings the first human pair;

How, disobeying, they were driven forth,

And they, and theirs, consigned to sad despairUntil the God incarnate pitying gave

Himself for man, and made it just to save.

VII.

Then told he how the blessed martyrs bore
The chains of dungeons, and the fagot's flame,
Glad that their sufferings might attest the more
To their full faith in their Redeemer's name-
How his disciples past from shore to shore,

Salvation's joyful tidings to proclaim;
How hither now they brought the Gospel's light
To cheer the red men, wrapt in pagan night.

VIII.

Waban attentive heard our Founder's strain,
And at its pause he long in silence sate;
A graver tone did o'er his visage reign,

And all his heart's deep feelings indicate.
At length he vented thus the mental train—
"Weak is my soul and dark is her estate!
No book has she to tell of Manit high,
Except this outstretched earth and starry sky.

IX.

Great news Awanux brings the red men here—
News, that doth far their legends old excel;
Yet give to Waban the attentive ear,

And the traditions of his sires he'll tell,
From days afar, down many a rolling year-
Down to thy brothers red, their fathers' tale
Comes to inform them in their mortal state,
What powers they should revere or deprecate.

X.

Here Waban paused, and, sitting, mused a space, As pondering gravely on the mighty theme; Deep thought was graven in his solemn face,

And dimly did his groping memory seem Gathering the scattered legends of his race.

At length he roused, as from a passing dream, And from his mat, majestically slow,

Reared his tall form, and thus began in accents low.

XI.

"Brother, that time is distant-far away,

When Earth and every living thing was not, Save our great God, Cawtantowit, who lay

Extended through immensity, where naught Save shoreless waters were-and dead were theyNo living thing did on their bosom floatAnd silence all that boundless space did fill; For the Great Spirit slept-and all was still.