256 JOHN ELIOT, THE INDIAN APOSTLE.
O solemn shadow ! and is this life, Where the haunted buds unclose,
And the very casket around our dead May unlock with a tuberose ?
��JOHN ELIOT, THE INDIAN APOSTLE
SAILING on to a New World harbor, Sailing near up to Boston town The good ship Lyon dropped her anchor, Marked with the sign of the British crown. What merchandise she safely carried Over the dark November sea It matters not ;
Her human freighting Is calling still to you and me.
Back from the Mayflower s keel the ripple, Chiming sweet to a waiting band, Lured them too to the open temples God had built in the Pilgrims land ; Waiting wives and betrothed maidens Came as the bird s mate heeds its call ; Christian preachers and stalwart soldiers Slipped from the Old World s bitter thrall.
Eager eyes, full of wistful wonder, Longing looked to the nearing town, Over the hilltop s azure shadow, Over the woodland dim and brown.
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