CANTO EIGHTH.
[Scene. The New Home in Seekonk's Mead.]
Through Seekonk's groves the morning sun once more
Flames in his glory. Waving verdant gold,
The boundless forest stands. Wild songsters pour,
From every dewy glade and tufted wold,
The melody of joy. From shore to shore
The tranquil waters dream, and soul-like hold
A mirrored world below of softest hue,
With underhanging vault of cloudless blue.
II.
And Williams issued from his humble cot,
Not as of late in solitary mood,
With cheerless heart and ill-foreboding thought,
But with light step and breast of quietude;
And by him came the partner of his lot,
And their young children, with blithe interlude
Of prattling speech, softening the graver talk
Of the fond parents in their morning walk.
III.
In sooth his buoyant spirits seemed to spread
O'er all about him their enlivening flush;
Ne'er was the grass so verdant on the glade,
Ne'er did the fountain sparkle with such gush;
Ne'er had the stream such lovely music made,
Ne'er sang so blithe the robin on the bush;
The woodland flowers far brighter hues displayed,
More sunny was the lawn, more dark the shade.
