As if 'twere driven to the sea by force.

But calmly on a gentle wave doth move,
As if 'twere drawn to Thetis' house by love.

The water 's fresh and sweet; and he that swims
In it, recruits and cures his surfeit limbs.
The fisherman the fry with pleasure gets,
With seines, pots, angles, and his trammel nets.
In it swim salmon, sturgeon, carp and eels;
Above, fly cranes, geese, ducks, herons and teals;
And swans, which take such pleasure as they fly,
They sing their hymns oft long before they die.
The grassy banks are like a verdant bed,
With choicest flowers all enameled,
O'er which the winged choristers do fly,
And wound the air with wondrous melody,
Here philomel, high perch'd upon a thorn,
Sings cheerful hymns to the approaching morn.
The song once set, each bird tunes up his lyre,
Responding heavenly music through the quire,
Within these fields, fair banks of violets grows;
And near them stand the air perfuming rose,
And yellow lilies fair enameled,

With ruddy spots here blushing hang the head.
These meadows serve not only for the sight,
To charm the eye with wonder and delight;
But for their excellent fertility,

Transcends each spot that ere beheld Sol's eye,
Here lady Flora's richest treasure grows,
And here she bounteously her gifts bestows.
The husbandman, for all his diligence,
Receives an ample, liberal recompense,
And feasting on the kidneys of the wheat,
Doth soon his labor and his toil forget.

After the meadows thus have took their place,
The champion plains draw up to fill the space.
Fair in their prospect, pleasant, fruitful, wide,
Here Tellus may be seen in all his pride.

Cloud-kissing pines in stately mangroves stand,
Firm oaks fair branches wide and large extend.
The fir, the box, the balm tree, here stand mute,
So do the nut trees, laden down with fruit.
In shady vales the fruitful vine o'erwhelms
The waving branches of the bending elms.

Within the covert of these shady boughs,
The loving turtle and his lovely spouse,
From bough to bough, in deep affection move,
And with chaste joy reciprocate their love.

ROGER WOLCOTT.

At the cool brooks, the beavers and the minks
Keep house, and here the hart and panther drinks.
And partridges here keep in memory,

How to their loss they soared once too high.
Within these spacious forests, fresh and green,
No monsters of burnt Afric may be seen.
No hissing basilisk stands to affright,
Nor seps, nor hemorhus, with mortal bite;
The Lybian lion ne'er set footing here,

Nor tigers of Numidia do appear.

But here the moose his spreading antlers sways,
And bears down stubborn standels with their sprays.
These sport themselves within these woods, and here
The fatted roebuck and the fallow deer
Yield venison as good as that which won
The patriarchal benediction.

Each plain is bounded at its utmost edge
With a long chain of mountains in a ridge,
Whose azure tops advance themselves so high,
They seem like pendants hanging in the sky.
Twentyfour miles, surveyors do account
Between the eastern and the western mount;
In which vast interspace, pleasant and fair,
Zephyrus whispers a delightful air.
These mountains stand at equidistant space
From the fair flood, in such majestic grace,
Their looks alone are able to inspire
An active brain with a mercurial fire.
The muses hence their ample dews distil,
More than was feigned from the twy-topt hill.
And if those witty men that have us told
Strange tales of mountains in the days of old,
Had they but seen how these are elevated,
We should have found them far more celebrated,
In the fine works that they have left to us,
Than high Olympus or long Caucasus;
Or Latmos, which Diana stops upon,

There to salute her dear Endymion.

Hither the eagles fly, and lay their eggs;

Then bring their young ones forth out of those crags.
And force them to behold Sol's majesty,

In mid noon glory, with a steady eye.
Here the old eagle his long beak belays

Upon a rock, till he renews his days.

And hence they from afar behold their prey,
And with a steady pinion wing their way.
But why so excellent a land should lie
So many ages in obscurity,

Unseen, unheard of, or unthought upon,
I think there's no good reason can be shown
Unless 'twere as it seems the mind of fate,
Your royal name long to perpetuate,

So order'd it that such a land might owe
Thanks for its liberties, great Sir, to you."

A narrative of the Pequot war is commenced, and the following account is given of a set battle between the Christian settlers and the Aborigines.

"After devotions thus to Heaven paid,
Up to the enemy our armies led,
Silent as the riphean snow doth fall,
Or fishes walk in Neptune's spacious hall.
Now Lucifer had just put out his head,
To call Aurora from old Tithon's bed.
Whereat the troops of the approaching light,
Began to beat the reg❜ments of the night.

But Morpheus, with his unperceived bands,
Had clos'd the Pequots' eyes, and chain'd their hands.
All lay asleep, save one sagacious wretch,
Who destin'd was to stand upon the watch.
Firm to his charge, with diligence he applies,
And looks around with fierce lyncean eyes.
When our avant couriers he espy'd,

Opening his lungs aloud, 'Auwunux!' cry'd."
"Auwunux," said our king, "what does that mean?"
"It signifies," said Winthrop, "Englishmen.

The startling news doth every soldier rouse,
Each arms and hastens to his rendezvous.
Meantime the English did the fort attach
And in the same had opened a breach,
Through which our brave Alcides enter'd first,
In after whom his valiant soldiers thrust.

Before the breach an unappalled band

Of warlike Pequots, with bow and arrows stand.
With cheerful accents these themselves confirm,
To die like men, or to outface the storm.
Then gallantly the English they assail,
With winged arrows, like a shower of hail.
These ours endure; and with like violence,
Sent lead and sulphur back in recompense.

And now the sight grew more and more intense,
Each violent death enflames the violence.

Charge answered charge, and shout reply'd to shout;
Both parties like enraged furies fought;

T

1

Till death, in all its horrid forms appears,
And dreadful noise keeps clamoring in our ears.
Now as some spacious rivers in their way,
By which they travel onwards to the sea,
Meet with some mighty precipice, from whence,
Enrag'd, they throw themselves with violence
Upon the stubborn rocks that lie below,
To make disturbance in the way they go.
Here, though the fury of the fray doth make
The near adjacent rocks and mountains quake,
Still the remorseless stream keeps on its course,
Nor will abate a moment of its force,
But rather hastens by impetuous facts
To throw itself into those cataracts.

And so it happened with our soldiers here,
Whose fortune 'twas to travel in the rear.
The combatings of these within the breaches,
With dreadful noise their listening ears attaches;
And from their foes, and from their brethren,
Loud cries of fighting and of dying men.

Sense of the danger doth not them affright,
But rather proves a motive to excite
The martial flame in every soldier's breast,
And on they like enraged lions prest;
Determined upon the spot to die,
Or from the foe obtain the victory.

Now fortune shows to the beholders' sight,
A very dreadful, yet a doubtful fight;
Whilst mighty men, born in far distant land,
Stood foot to foot, engaging hand to hand.

As when some mighty tempests that arise,
Meet with embattled fury in the skies:
Fire balls of lightnings and loud thunders rend
And tear the raging parties that contend.

So did the fury of these mighty foes,

With which they did each others' force oppose,
Bring on such ruins as might daunt with fears
The hearts of any men, excepting theirs.

Never did Pequots fight with greater pride;
Never was English valor better tried.

Never was ground soak'd with more gallant blood
Than the aceldama whereon we stood.
Sometimes one party victory soon expect,
As soon their eager hopes are countercheck'd.
And those that seem'd as conquered before,
Repel with greater force the conqueror.
Three times the Pequots seemed to be beat:

As many times they made their foes retreat
And now our hope and help for victory,
Chiefly depended from the arm on high.

As when Euroclydon the forest rends,
The bigger oaks fall down, the lesser bends
The beaten limbs and leaves before him scour,
Affrighted and enforced by his power;

To some huge rock, whose adamantine brow,
Outbraves the fury of all winds that blow;
There hoping to be hid from the high charge
Of fierce pursuers, by his mighty verge.
The winds in pressing troops demand surrender,
Of the pursued, and boisterous storm and thunder;
But he browbeats, and masters all their pride,
And sends them roaring to the larboard side.

So Mason here, most strongly dress'd in arms,
Reanimates his men, their ranks reforms;

Then leading on, through deaths and dangers goes,
And beats the thickest squadrons of the foes.
Prince Mononotto sees his squadrons fly,
And on our general having fix'd his eye,
Rage and revenge his spirits quickening,
He set a mortal arrow in the string.

Then to his god and fathers' ghosts he pray'd,
'Hear, O immortal powers, hear me,' he said;
'And pity Mistick, save the tottering town,
And on our foes hurl dreadful vengeance down.
Will you forsake your altars and abodes,
To those contemners of immortal gods?
Will those pay hecatombs unto your shrine,
Who have deny'd your powers to be divine?
O favor us; our hopes on you are built;
But if you are mindful of our former guilt,
Determine final ruin on us all;

Yet let us not quite unrevenged fall.
Here I devote this of our enemies
His precious life to you a sacrifice.
Nor shall I covet long to be alive,
If such a mischief I might once survive.
But, O indulgent, hearken to my prayer;
Try us once more; this once the city spare:
And take my gift, let your acceptance be
An omen we shall gain the victory.'

That very instant Mason did advance,
Whereat rage interrupts his utterance;