Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/22

 XXI.

His eyes beamed youth; and such a solemn mien, Joined with such majesty and graceful air, Our Founder thought he ne'er before had seen In mortal form; and at the offered chair The stranger gently shook his brow serene, And by the act revealed his long white hair, As fell the fleecy covering from it clean, Where down his shoulder hung its tresses sheen.

XXII.

And when he spake his voice was low and clear, But yet so deeply thrilling in its tone, The listening soul seemed rapt into a sphere Where angels speak in music of their own. "Williams," it said, "I come on message here, Of mighty moment to this age unknown, Thou must not dally, or the tempest fear, But fly at morn into the forest drear.

XXIII.

"Thou art to voyage an unexploréd flood; No chart is there thy lonely bark to steer; Beneath her, rocks—around her, tempests rude,  And persecution's billows in her rear, Shall shake thy soul till it is near subdued:  But when the welcome of 'What cheer! What cheer!' Shall greet thine ears from Indian multitude, Cast thou thine Anchor there, and trust in God."

XXIV.

The stranger ceased, and gently past away, Though Williams to retain him still was fain; "The night was dark, and wild the tempest's sway, And lone the desert," but 'twas all in vain;