Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/153

 LIII.

Now struggling by the flames they past from sight, For Williams lingered yet to guard the cave; And there, enveloped in a deeper night, With fiercer fury did the contest rave;— The blow, the wrench, the pantings of the fight, The crash of branches and of thickets gave A dreadful note of every effort made, Where life sought life within that shuddering shade.

LIV.

The mother sank beside the father, pale And scared; the children her affright partook; At times they raised the sympathetic wail; At times with breathless terror mutely shook. Williams peered out along the kindling vale; No sign of other foe there met his look; Then with a word that quick return presaged, He rushed tow'rd where the doubtful contest raged.

LV.

He passed the flame and paused—for on his ear There came, with one loud crash, a heavy sound; He listens still; and silence, sudden, drear, Reigns oe'r the glade, and through the gloom profound. Who is the victim? Evil-boding fear Tells him that Waban gasps upon the ground; One bubbling groan, as if the life-blood gushed; A shuddering struggle then—and all was hushed.

LVI.

In dire suspense the anxious father stood, Yet did he still unmanly terrors quell; His hand, yet innocent of human blood, Now grasped the axe to meet the victor fell;