Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/60

 But little did he think the torrent's will Would ever yield so far to human laws, As from the maid the spindle to receive And spin for her, and her fair raiment weave.

LXXI.

Reluctantly he left the scene, and fast Down Seekonk's eastern bank pursued his way, Seeking for Waban's meads; yet often cast His glances o'er the river, where the gray Primeval giants, meet for keel or mast, Stood, towering and distinct, in proud array; And wore to his presaging eyes the air Of lofty ships and stately mansions fair.

LXXII.

Still onward, by the eastern bank he sped; Here stretched the thicket deep, there swampy fen, Here sunk the vale, there rose the hillock's head; Oaks crowned the mound, and cedars gloomed the glen, Where'er he moved;—at length his footsteps led Where a bright fountain, sparkling like a gem, Burst from the caverned cliff, and, glittering, wound Its copious streamlet, with a murmuring sound,

LXXIII.

Far down the glade; and groves of cedars green, With woven branches on the winter side, Repelled the northern storm, whilst clear and sheen, Crisped by its pebbly bed, the glancing tide Gleamed in the sun, or darkened where the screen Of boughs o'erhung its music-murmuring glide;— It laughed along;—and its broad Southern glade Was bordered deep by woods of massy shade.