THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
"On Friday, March 16th, 1622, while the colonists were busied in their usual labors, they were much surprised to see a savage walk boldly towards them, and salute them with, 'much welcome, English, much welcome, Englishmen.'"
Above them spread a stranger sky
Around, the sterile plain,
The rock-bound coast rose frowning nigh,
Beyond,—the wrathful main:
Chill remnants of the wintry snow
Still chok'd the encumber'd soil,
Yet forth these Pilgrim Fathers go,
To mark their future toil.
'Mid yonder vale their corn must rise
In Summer's ripening pride,
And there the church-spire woo the skies
Its sister-school beside.
Perchance 'mid England's velvet green
Some tender thought repos'd,—
Though nought upon their stoic mien
Such soft regret disclos'd.
When sudden from the forest wide
A red-brow'd chieftain came,
With towering form, and haughty stride,
And eye like kindling flame:
No wrath he breath'd, no conflict sought,
To no dark ambush drew,
But simply to the Old World brought,
The welcome of the New.
