CANTO FIFTH.

Deep in the dale's sequestered solitude,
Skreened from the winter's storm and chilling blast,
By branching cedars and thick underwood,

With their brown shadows ever overcast,
Old Narraganset's regal wigwam stood,

Where dwelt her hoary chief, whilst still might last

The stern dominion of the freezing North

To chain his warriors from the work of wrath.

II.

And near it rose an ample council hall,

Where oft the Narraganset senate sate,

When came the wise men, at their sachem's call,
On great emprises to deliberate;

And still within the shade were shelters all
His grave advisers to accommodate ;
And, with the savage as with men polite,
Such kind provisions did delays invite.

III.

Here father Willams must a space remain,
And, with kind accents born of feelings mild,
Soothe the stern natures of that savage train,
His destined neighbors in that barbarous wild;
Remove distrust and confidence obtain,

Until suspicion and grim wrath despoiled
Of all their terrors, leave the vanquished mind
To generous friendship and full faith inclined.

IV.

Day after day, he past from man to man,
Whom e'er of note the mightier sachems swayed,
And, to the chieftains of each martial clan,

In paints all grim-in horrid arms arrayed—
He talked of peace, then o'er the dangers ran,
Were war against the Wampanoag made ;
And then intreated that their friendly eyes
Might view his smoke on Seekonk's margin rise.

V.

Betwixt the tribes, on either side the stream,

Still he the belt would hold-the pipe would bearBut never in his hand should lightning gleam For either sachem when he rushed to war; And with the Yengees still it might beseem Him to promote an understanding fair, Till wide the tree of peace its branches spread, And white and red men smoke beneath its shade.

VI.

But chiefly he did this free converse hold

With M'antonomi, sachem young and brave, And great Canonicus, so sage and old,

And in his speech deliberate and grave.

One eve they sate the storm without was cold-
'Twas ere the council the decision gave-
And thus the converse past among the three,
The questions simple and the answers free.

VII.
ΜΙΑΝΤΟΝΟΜΙ.

Why will my brother dwell amid our foes,
Yet seek from us a peaceful neighborhood?
May we not think he'll bend their battle bows,
And thirst like them for Narraganset's blood?
Why has he Seekonk's eastern border chose,

And not surveyed Mooshausick's winding flood?

Its banks are green-its forests waving fair→→
Its fountains cool-the deer abundant there.

VIII.

WILLIAMS,

Ne'er will I dwell among my brothers' foes,
To make them friends is now thy brother's toil;
Too weak am I to bend their battle-bows,

Had I the heart for such unseemly broil.
The forest fair that by Mooshausick grows,
Would long withstand the hardy woodman's toil.
The Seekonk's marge will easy tillage yield,
And soon the spiry maize adorn its ample field.

IX.

CANONICUS.

How could my brother's thoughts his friends offend?
Why flies he to the red from faces pale ?
How can he still the nations red befriend?

What can his speeches with his foes avail?—
No arms he bears-no Yengees him attend—

How dares his foot to print this distant vale; The path was shut between the nations red— How dared my brother on that path to tread?

X.

WILLIAMS.

The white man labors to enthral the mind-
He will not let its thoughts of God be free;
I come the soul's hard bondage to unbind,

And clear her passage to the Deity:
The pale faced foes, whom I have left behind,
Would still refuse no favor done by me.
I trusted God would guard his servant's head,
Open all paths and sooth my brothers red.

XI.

CANONICUS,

Thy generous confidence has on me won,

That ope'd my ears, to other Yengees deaf,

Brother, the spirit of my son is gone

I burned my lodge to speak my mighty griefIf thou art true I am not left alone

Some comfort is there for the gray-haired chiefIf to thy words the fitting deeds be done,

I am thy father, thou shalt be my son.

XII.

The kindest reader would fatigued complain,
Should I recount each question and reply,
Which past between our father and that train

Of barbarous warriors and their sachems high;
But though he languished on my humble strain,
Till patience left, or dullness closed his eye,
Yet to sire Williams 'twas no idle song ;—
The dull reality did days prolong.

XIII.

They had their Corbitant's of surly mood,

Who scarce would yield obedience to their lord; Alike they thirsted for the Yengees' blood,

And Wampanoag's, and alike abhorred. By gaudy presents he their wrath subdued,

Or won their kindness by his soothing word; But there was one who spurned all proffers kind— Whose demon hate was to all goodness blind.

XIV.

It was the grim Pawaw.-He came in ire,

From his proud dwelling by Mooshausick's stream; He spoke the voice of gods and omens dire,

And loudly chanted his prophetic dream;

"The white man's gods had set the woods on fire, And Chepian vanished in its fearful gleam;

Their fathers' ghosts came from their hunting ground; Their children sought, and only ashes found."

XV.

With grave attention did the council hear

That crafty priest his awful omens.sing.

The warriors ruled by superstitious fear,

Half credence gave, and overawed the king. In groups they thronged the forest, far and near,

With gathered brows and speech dark muttering; Whilst moved the prophet through the kindling crowds, Like a dire comet through night's lowering clouds.

XVI.

And as he past, the varying rumors flew

Of secret plan's sprung from the Yengees' hate; And still their fears and doubts and wonder grew, Whilst on that dream the chiefs prolonged debate ; For priest was he and politician too,

And oft he meddled with affairs of state, Wrought on the fears of superstition's crew, And the best counsels of the wise o'erthrew.

XVII.

Thus, when the senate dared resist his sway,

He still gained triumph with the multitude, Till now the chiefs half yielding to dismay; Yet vext and goaded by his rebel mood, Bade that the clans assemble on a day,

And Williams meet the prophet of the wood, And in their wondering presence overthrow, His strange dominion, or each hope forego.

XVIII.

I will not say that devils did enlist,

To do the bidding of this grim pawaw;
He might have been a wild ventriloquist,

Formed by rude nature; but the age, which saw
The marvels that he wrought, would aye insist,
His spells surpassed material nature's law;
And that the monarch of the infernal shade
Mustered his legions to the wizard's aid.

XIX.

Great was his fame; for wide the rumor went,

The demons dark were all at his command,