CANTO NINTH. 'Tis early morn-Pawtucket's torrent roar, The basin broad, and there 'twixt hill and wold, II. No thraldom had they known, save winter's frost ; Oft thence their flow had borne the stealthy host, Darkling to strike the foe-But now no more, They blush to bear the freight of men that thirst for gore. III. Early that morn, beside the tranquil flood, Where ready trimmed rode Waban's frail canoe, Stole frequent down her cheeks-Hers was the smart- IV. And as she viewed the illimitable shade, The haunt of savage men and beasts of prey, "What crimes were yours, what dire offences, say, V. But, father Williams to his lot resigned, His soul inspired did bolder visions own, VI. As the bold bird that builds her mansion high, And deems herself secure from every foe, And builds upon some ash that crests the mountain's height. VII. Thus his vain toils he coldly now surveyed; sprang himself into the stern, and bade The dusky pilot now his paddle ply; Shoved from the bank the settling skiff descends VIII. Now, with a giddy whirl, the wheeling prow, The cot-the glade—the forests backward glide; Closed round the green, and shut the roof from view. IX. Pawtucket's murmurs die upon their ears, As cleaves the expanded sheet the swift canoe ; And now the river's straightened pass appears, And jutting mounds their lofty forests shew; Each giant trunk a navy's timber rears— Their mighty shadows o'er the flood they threw, Shut out the Heavens, and scarce could glimmering day, The long, dark, hollow, winding path display. X. Stern silence reigned o'er all the sable tide, Broke only by the swarthy pilot's oar; Beneath the arching boughs the wanderers glide, XI. Oft, on the lofty banks from jutting rocks, The buck looked down wild on the swift canoe ; Oft o'er the bramble leaped the wary fox With bushy tail, and fur of ruddy hue; Or wheeling high, and gathering still in flocks, The dark-winged ravens, by their clamors, shew Where the lone owl, perched on his moss-grown seat, Insists, unvanquished yet, upon his drear retreat. XII. Far down the winding pass at length they spy, For breezes from the hoary ocean cooled XIII. And now did Williams in his mind debate, Should he that night cleave Narraganset's flood, Or on the Seekonk's bank till morning wait, And scour the whilst Mooshausick's gloomy wood; "Would that kind Heaven might there predestinate, Religious Freedom! thy desired abode ;" (He often thought) or where in ocean's arms, Smiles wild Aquidnay, robed in virgin charms." XIV. Whilst thus he ponders, down the stream he sees, Say, from what town yon curling smoke aspires? What valiant sachem holds dominion there? What dreadful numbers leads he forth to war?" XV. "No town!-the feast of peace!"-the red man cried, As still his swarthy arm impelled the oar; "The clans from Narraganset far and wide, And every tribe from Pokanoket's shore, There smoke the pipe, and lay the axe aside, The pipe which thou to Potowomet bore ; Much they rejoice-their ancient hate forego, And deem my white chief a good Manittoo." XVI. A secret joy o'er father Williams' breast, Stole like the fragrance of the balmy morn, XVII, "What singing bird has, on the wandering wing, Borne these strange tidings to my hunter's ear? Where on her pinions poised, thus did she sing, And with her faithless song his bosom cheer ?" Waban replied, whilst he was journeying Toward the white man's town, through forests drear, He on Cohannet's banks his brethren met, Bound to the banquet of the calumet. XVIII. Now murmurs hoarse came on our Founder's ear, Of the red hosts that thronged the opposing green; XIX. Along the strand their speed the racers try, Their flying feet scarce seem to touch the ground; From goal to goal the nimble hunters fly; Crowds shout above them, and the woods resound ; |