Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/113

 XXXVI.

Williams replied, "Thou Priest of Beelzebub! Chepian, I mean, if that's his better name— I come not hither to assume thy robe  Pontifical, or emulate thy fame; Or yet to trouble, with the warrior's club,  Such saints as thou and thy dark demon claim; For be but peaceful, and I let thee still Worship thy manit dark, as suits thy will.

XXXVII.

"But here I sit, to prove thee to thy face A foul impostor, and thy charms a cheat;— To ope the eyes of a deluded race,  Strangely misled by thine infernal feat, That in thy foe they confidence may place,  And him, in friendship, as a neighbor greet; So try thy spells, thine utmost powers essay, And if I blench, be thine the victor's day."

XXXVIII.

"Die, then!" he said, and down with fury cast The magic casket, and wide open flew Its fur-lined cavern. Forth his volumes vast, Fold following fold, the monstrous serpent drew; Flashed on his burnished scales, the sunbeams past Along his flexuous form in many a hue; Proud of his freedom, o'er the glade he rolled, And mocked the rainbow in his hues of gold.

XXXIX.

High towered his head; in many an ample fold He coiled his volumes, spires o'er spires ascending And lessening as they rose and inward rolled; His rustling scales, their various colors blending,