XXV.
Then silence reigned again—but still they stared;
Some claspt their knives, and some their arrows drew;
Then from his seat his form our Founder reared,
The while beneath him rocked the frail canoe;
His hand he raised and manly forehead bared,
And straight their former friend the Sachems knew;
"Netop, Whatcheer!" broke on the listening air;
"Whatcheer! Whatcheer!" re-echoed here and there.
XXVI.
Then o'er and the o'er the words burst loud and clear,
In shouts that seemed to seek the joyous sky;
With open arms and greetings of "Whatcheer,"
Lived all the shores, and banks, and summits high;
"Whatcheer! Whatcheer!" resounded far and near,
"Whatcheer! Whatcheer!" the echoing woods reply;
"Whatcheer!" Whatcheer!" swells the exulting gales,
Sweeps o'er the laughing hills and trembles thro' the vales.
XXVII.
"Speed! Waban, speed!" with haste our Founder cried,
Soon as the hollow echoes died afar;
With lusty arm the hunter clove the tide,
The swift canoe seemed moving through the air;
One instant more and Williams, from her side,
Sprang on a rock, (thence giving it to share
His deathless fame,) and straight around him stood,
In cheerful throngs, the Indian multitude.
XXVIII.
Miantonomi, stepping from the crowd,
Stretched forth his brawny hand, and cried "Whatcheer!
Welcome, my brother! say, what lowering cloud,
O'er Seekonk's eastern marge, impels thee here?
