He past, still following his dusky guide,

And stooping oft 'neath overhanging bough, Till a broad cultured field expanded wide,

Betwixt dense thickets and Mooshausick's flow. Its deep green rows of waving maize foretold Abundant harvest, from a fertile mould.

XL.

The Priest's forsaken lodge rose in the mid,
Beside a fountain on a verdant lawn ;
Its arches broad by climbing vines were hid,
Spacious it seemed and like a chieftain's shown;
Then Williams thought of what his warrior did,
Upon that bloody night in forests lone ;

He mourns the fate that urged the felon's doom,
Yet sees its fruits a temporary home.

XLI.

But still some scruples do his mind assail;

What horrid rites had made the place profane! When thus the chief-" No more my son bewail Thy comforts lost-let the Great Spirit reign. Where Chepian reigned-ay, let thy God prevailBe thou his Priest and this thy own domainFrom wild Pawtucket to Pawtuxet's bounds, To thee and thine be all the teeming grounds.

XLII.

High thanks sire Williams paid-but as he spake, Came o'er his mind a feeling passing strange; A Prophet's rapture did his bosom wake;

For, at that moment down the boundless range Of angel spheres, did some bright being take

Wing to his soul, and wrought to suited change The visual nerve, and straight in outward space, Its form stood manifest, in all its heavenly grace.

XLIII.

At once he cried, "I see! I see the seer!

His very form, his very shape and air!

By yonder fount-the same his robes appear;
The same his radiant eyes and flowing hair;
Mary! my children! come! his accents hear;

See age and youth one heavenly beauty share!"
They with him moved, (yet ne'er the vision saw ;)
Until the father paused, transfixed in sacred awe.

XLIV.

For strange to tell, youth's lingering light began
To spread fresh glories o'er that aged face;
Till over beard, and hair, and visage wan,
Burst the full splendor of angelic grace;
A lambent flame around the forehead ran,

And rainbow hues the earthly robes displace;
The curling locks, like beams of living light,
Streamed back, and glowed insufferably bright.

XLV.

The figure seemed to grow-its dazzling eyes
Were for a space upon sire Williams bent,
Then upward turned.-It, pointing to the skies,
Spake Hope in God, with silence eloquent.
Still did it brighten-still its stature rise—

With Heaven's full glories seemed it to augment—

The pilgrim staff no longer did it hold;

But on an Anchor leant, that blazed ethereal gold.

XLVI.

Our Father gazed, and, from that heavenward eye,
Saw the pure streams of angel radiance flow;
An inward glory, as it towered on high,

Filled all the stature to the lofty brow;

And then the shape translucent seemed to grow, And still expanding fade its glories fair,

Like those of evening, or the radiant bow, Till all dissolving in transparent air,

It melted from the sight, and left no traces there.

XLVII.

Then, on the bending knees, he bowed to own
The Heaven-born vision, and his soul declare;
His wife and children, by him kneeling down,
Sent up their hearts upon the wings of prayer;
The dusky nations formed a crescent far,
Their ears in awful silence did they bend;

Hills, vales and floods and forests listening were-
Force to each word their faithful echoes lend,
And with their Ruler's prayers did theirs to Heaven
ascend.

XLVIII.

"Mysterious Power! who dost in wonders speak,
We note thy tokens and their import spell;
Let Persecution still its vengeance wreak—

Let its fierce billows roll with mountain swell,
Here must we Anchor, and their force repel.
Here, in Religious Freedom moored, our State

Shall hold the conscience sacred-ever freeHere shall she breast the coming storms of fate, And ride triumphant o'er the raging sea,

Her well-cast Anchor here, her lasting Hope in Thee!

66

XLIX.

Here, thy assurance gives our wanderings rest,

And points where all our future toils must be; Lord! be our labors by thy mercies blest,

And send their fruits to far posterity; Let our example still the conscience free, Where'er she dwells by tyrant force enchained, And whilst the thraldom lasts, Oh! let her see, Her ark of safety here, where, unprofaned By Persecution's brands, free altars are maintained.

L.

Accept, O Lord! our thanks for mercies past;
Thou wast our cloud by day, and fire by night,

15*

Whilst yet we journeyed through the dreary vast— Thou Canaan more than givest to our sight.

Lord! 'tis possessed not seen from Pisgah's height. We deeply feel this high beneficence;

And ages far shall o'er our graves recite

Of thy protecting grace their Father's sense,
And, when they name their homes, proclaim Thy
PROVIDENCE!"

NOTES.

CANTO FIRST.

STANZA I.

I sing the trials and the sufferings great,
Which father Williams in his exile bore,
That he the conscience bound might liberate,

And her religious rights the soul restore.

Roger Williams was born of reputable parents in Wales, A. D. 1598. He was educated at the University of Oxford; was regularly admitted to Orders in the Church of England, and preached for some time as a minister of that Church; but on embracing the doctrines of the Puritans, he rendered himself obnoxious to the laws against the non-conformists, and embarked for America, where he arrived with his wife, whose name was Mary, on the 5th of February, A. D. 1631." He had scarcely landed ere he began to assert the principle of religious freedom, and insist on a rigid separation from the Church of England. A declaration that the magistrate ought not to interfere in matters of conscience could not fail to excite the jealousy of a government constituted as that of Massachusetts then was, and this jealousy was roused into active hostility when, in the April following his arrival, he was called by the Church of Salem as teaching Elder under their then Pastor, Mr. Skelton.

"Of this appointment," says Winthrope, "the Governor of Massachusetts was informed, who immediately convened a Court in Boston to take the subject into consideration." Their deliberations resulted in a letter addressed to Mr. Endicot, of Salem, to this effect: "That whereas Mr. Williams had refused to join the churches at Boston, because they would not make a public declaration of their repentance, for having communion with the Churches of England while they tarried there, and besides had declared his opinion that the magistrate might not punish the breach of the Sabbath, nor any other offence that was a breach of the first table; and therefore they marvelled they would choose him without