Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/148

 Their liberated frames, and fuller breath respired, And quiet grazed the lea. Then to the rock The father hastened with a blazing brand; His wife and children, linking hand in hand,

XXXVI.

Followed his steps. It was a cavern rude, Its floor a level rock, its vaulted roof Of granite masses formed, whose arches stood More firmly for the weight they propped aloof;— And here and there upon the floor were strewed Extinguished brands, which, with like signs, gave proof That men had dwelt there;—then, through screening vines Sire Williams glances out and marks where shines,

XXXVII.

Full on red Waban's face, the mounting blaze. Though half a bow-shot from the cavern he Stands at the fire, yet its bright sheen displays His hue and shape, and then could Williams see How well the hunter judged thus far to raise The burning pyre; no passage could there be For hostile foot, save by that glittering flame, Which well would light the arrow's certain aim.

XXXVIII.

Such furniture, as for their strongest need The wretehed exiles had themselves supplied, Was to the cave now brought, with bread to feed The little children clustering by the side Of their fond parents.—Then did thanks suceeed To God who deigned such comforts to provide, And earnest prayers that His protecting might Would shield them through the dangers of the night.