Let ages after ages take the boon, And in religious freedom still be blest— Grant that I live until this task be done, And then O Lord! receive me as thine own.” LII. Our father ceased, and with keen relish he Sense now the pleasures of that frugal meal; But toil and fast had done their office well, And not the dainties brought o'er India's sea, Or wrung from sweat of modern slavery, LIII. Are now so sweet as was his simple fare. This banquet past, he would have sought repose; Came darkling with light foot along the snows Whole packs of wolves, from their far mountain lair, And the fierce cat which scarce the blaze might scare. LIV. Growling they come, and in dark groups they stand, Show the white fang, and roll the bright'ning eye; Till urged by hunger seemed the shaggy band Even the flame's bright terrors to defy Then 'mid the group he hurled the blazing brand; But rallying, soon back to the siege they came, LV. Yet Williams deemed that persecution took, A form in them less odious than in men; He on their dreary solitude had broke— Aye, and had trespassed on their native glen; His human shape they scantly too might brook; LVI. Oft he recruited now the sinking blaze- Was now the anchor of his safety cast; Or clipt the branches overhead that past; LVII. At length the groups a panick seemed to seize, LVIII. Of all the monsters of the dreary wood, LIX. In God he trusted for deliverance He thought of Daniel in the lion's den- Another long-drawn yell and the fierce glance Of two bright burning eye-balls looking then Out from the darkness, seemed e'en to enhance, The mortal terrors of the sure mischance. LX. But at this moment from the darkness broke A human voice in Narraganset's tongue; "Neemat!" (my brother) in kind tone it spoke, "How comes Awanux these drear wilds among?" And at the accents the dark thickets shook, And from them lightly the red hunter sprung, And from his belt familiarly he took, And fired his calumet, and curled its smoke. LXI. Then to our founder passed the simple cheer, Tall did his straight and active form appear, LXII. The bear's dark fur loose o'er his shoulders cast, The beaver's girdle closely swathed his waist; Its skirts hung low and trimm'd with 'broidery fine; The well formed ankles bound in deer-skin close, The melting snow-drops to the sight disclose. LXIII. Nature's kind feelings did his visage grace; Though bright his eyes flashed 'neath the forehead's base, Seemed moving in his limbs and breathing from his face. LXIV. Williams the pledge of friendship now returned, LXV. "His fire within this far sequestered glade. Wanders my brother from his homeward way? To catch the wilely beavers, who have made LXVI. ""Twere hard to tell my brother of the woods, What cause has forced his pale-faced brother here, The red and white men have their different modes, And scant is Narraganset's tongue, I fear, In fitting terms to teach my brother's ear, The themes of strife among white multitudesThemes yet unknown within these forests drear, Where undisturbed ye worship various gods, And persecution leave to white abodes. LXVII. "Let it suffice, (for weary is the night,) That late across the mighty lake I came, And sought protection here of brothers white, From pale chiefs armed with chains or fagot's flame, Who dare to burn their brothers who delight, The mighty spirit over all the same, To worship in a mode they think is right, Because from theirs that mode hath difference slight. LXVIII. My brethren here had persecution fled, And much I hoped with them a home to find, LXIX. And now my brother through the wilds I go, To seek some far-some lone sequestered glenWhere never shall the flame of fagot glow, Kindled by wrath of persecuting men; Where all may worship, as their Gods they know, Where ages after ages still may bow, And from free hearts the free orisons flow. LXX. Waban a space mused on our founder's tale, Silent he sate in meditative mood, For much he wondered why his brothers pale, That the great spirit was a father kind, Or thought that Chepian* was perchance their God, Who to all deeds of goodness disinclined, Joyed only in the fell and cruel mind. *The name of the Indian's Devil. |