Page:What cheer, or, Roger Williams in banishment (1896).pdf/90

 XVIII.

As thus he spake, the sullen murmurs died, And, hushed and listening, all the warriors stood; Again he moved—and at his onward stride The deep mass parted like a severing flood; And, yielding either way, the living tide Left clear the space through which our Founder trod: Their breath alone he heard—like the hoarse breeze Foreboding tempests to the shuddering trees.

XIX.

At last he came where the old Sachems sate, Who formed the Narraganset senate grave; Renownéd were they once, in fierce debate Of battle dire, as bravest of the brave; But now, as guardians of their little state, To younger hands they prudent counsel gave. Their youth was gone, but their experience sage Had thrice its value in a wise old age.

XX.

On settles, raised around the mounting blaze, Sit gray Wauontom, Keenomp, Sagamore; But he who most attracts our Founder's gaze Is sage Canonicus, whose tresses hoar Float on the passing breeze; whose brow displays The care-worn soul in many a furrowed score; But whose bright eyes, that underneath it glow. Still show the chief of sixty years ago.

XXI.

Beside him lay the calumet of peace— It was his sceptre mid the din of arms; No martial dyes did on his visage trace The lines of wrath—for him they had no charms;