43. And the heavy night hung dark
The woods and waters o'er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
44. Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;
Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that speaks of fame;
45. Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear--
They shook the depths of the desert's gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.
46. Amidst the storm they sang;
And the stars heard, and the sea;
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang
To the anthem of the free!
47. The ocean eagle soared
From his nest by the white wave's foam,
And the rocking pines of the forest roared--
This was their welcome home.
_Mrs. Hemans_
[Illustration: _Landing of the Pilgrims_]
THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
48. Behold! they come--those sainted forms,
Unshaken through the strife of storms;
Heaven's winter cloud hangs coldly down,
And earth puts on its rudest frown;
But colder, ruder, was the hand
That drove them from their own fair land;
Their own fair land--Refinement's chosen seat,
Art's trophied dwelling, Learning's green retreat;
By Valor guarded and by Victory crowned,
For all but gentle Charity renowned.
49. With streaming eye, yet steadfast heart,
Even from that land they dared to part,
And burst each tender tie;
Haunts, where their sunny youth was passed,
Homes, where they fondly hoped at last
In peaceful age to die.
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