Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/188

 XXXIX.

The Priest's forsaken lodge rose thereamid, Beside a fountain on a verdant lawn, Spacious as some great Sachem's, and half-hid In mantling vines wherewith it was o'ergrown; And Williams thought of what his warrior did On that dark bloody night, so direly known,— Mourning the fate that caused the Sorcerer's doom; Yet sees its fruit, a temporary home.

XL.

But some last scruples still his mind assail; For, ah! what rites had made the place profane! When thus the chief:—"No more my son bewail Thy comforts lost; let the Great Spirit reign Where Chepian reigned; ay, let thy God prevail;  Be thou His Priest, and this thine own domain; From wild Pawtucket to Pawtuxet's bounds To thee and thine be all the teeming grounds."

XLI.

High thanks Sire Williams paid;—but as he spake, Came over him a feeling passing strange; A prophet's rapture in his breast did wake; For, at that moment, down the boundless range Of heavenly spheres did some bright being take Wing to his soul, and wrought to suited change The visual nerve, and straight in outward space Stood manifest in its celestial grace.

XLII.

At once he cried, "I see! I see the seer! His very form, his very shape and air! By yonder fount;—the same his robes appear;  The same his radiant eyes and flowing hair;