LVII.
Scarce need I say, Sire Williams cheerly gave
The pipe he bore and took the friendly belt;
That thanks he tendered to the Sachems brave;
That what he uttered he as deeply felt;
That he repeated each assurance grave
Of friendly favors, whilst he near them dwelt;
Nor pause I, now, the customs to describe,
By which the truce was honored by the tribe.
LVIII.
He took the Sachem's friendly calumet,
Then scattered wampum mid the warriors all;
On Miantonomi's lofty brow he set,
Round waving plumes, the jeweled coronal;
The scarlet coat the elder potentate
Most trimly graced, and gave delight withal;
Then ribbons gave he, various their hue,
To counsellors and Keenomps, bold and true.
LIX.
His mission finished, Father Williams sped,
With Waban guiding, through the forest lone;
Nor cold nor hunger did he longer dread,
Or bore them cheerly now, his object won;
Quickly to Haup did he the thickets thread—
To Haup, so well to Pilgrim Father known—
And found that Sachem, mid his warriors stern,
Alarmed, but hoping still his safe return.
LX.
Gladly he heard from Waban's faithful tongue
Sire Williams' speeches and the answers given,
And wildly shouted all that warrior throng,
To learn the dire enchanter's spell was riven;
