He'll give my brother's town a cloudy sky,
And to his councils under-sachems draw;
E'en now he whets the Narraganset knife,
Points at our clan, and thirsts for human life.
LVII.
"Safer on Seekonk's hither border may
My brother build, and wake his council blaze;
Clear are the meads—the trees are swept away
By mighty burnings in our fathers' days.
There early verdure spring and flow'rets gay,
Long grows the grass, and thrifty is the maize;
And good old Massasoit's sheltering wing
Will shield thy weakness from each harmful thing."
LVIII.
"Brother, I thank thee," said our Founder here,
"Oft have I seen thy chief on Plymouth's shore;
I will to-morrow seek those meadows clear,
And thy fair Seekonk's hither banks explore.
But will not Waban pass Namasket near,
Where oft that wise and good old Sagamore,
Brave Massasoit, spends the season drear?"
"He will, my brother"—"Then let Waban hear:
LIX.
"Tell thou that Sachem, generous and wise,
That Williams lingers in thy cabin low,
That he his children and his country flies,
To shun the anger of a Christian foe;
And that to him his pale friend lifts his eyes,
And asks protection.—Tell him that his woe
Springs from this thought, and from this thought alone,
God can be worshipped but as God is known."
