He saw her loving neighbors them detain
The Almighty's blessing on them to implore,
And heard the farewell hymn, a pensive strain
Of mingled voices as they trod the plain.
VIII.
Pleasant it was, and mournful was it too,
To see the matron leading by the hand,
From all their joys to toils and dangers new,
That innocent and happy infant band;
For, hand in hand, did they their way pursue,
With childish wonder, toward the distant land;—
As little witting of the ills that wait,
As that their labors were to found a State.
IX.
Soon Waban passed him where concealed he stood,
And slowly led his docile charge along;
Then Mary stept into the dusky wood,
Still guiding, as she came, the prattling throng;
No longer viewless he his darlings viewed,
But, wild with rapture, from the thicket sprung:
"Oh, father! father!" burst the children's cry,
And Mary claspt him in her ecstacy.
X.
But short the transport—soon must they resume
The weary march, and from the dawning gray
Hour after hour, to pensive evening's gloom,
Through the lone forest wend their devious way;
O'er river, vale, and steep, through brake and broom,
And rough ravine, with aching steps they stray;
The father's arms oft bore the lovely weight,
Or on the palfrey's back the weariest sate.
