III.
With a light heart, and step as light,
He soon retraced his homeward route,
And there the ship was full in sight,
And all the colonists were out
And gazing off upon the river.
With pious thankfulness some lift
Their eyes and hands to the great Giver
Of every good and perfect gift;
Some, wild with joy, run here and there,
Grasping each other’s eager hand;
Some with quick motion beat the air,
And some like moveless statues stand.
Slowly the ship comes sailing on,
And now she rides abreast the town;
The sailors up the shrouds have gone,
The ponderous anchor plunges down,
And curbs her gently to the breeze,
Like a proud steed that feels the bit;
And now she heads the rippling seas,
And her furling sails on the long yards flit.
A light boat launches from the shore,
Each oarsman nimbly plies his oar
Across the waters, bright and clear.
The tall ship rapidly they near,
And soon, half lost to view, they glide
To the deep shadow of her side,
Where the rocking boat seems but a speck;
Man after man mounts to the deck,
And here Sir John with joyous smile
Greets Newport from Britannia’s isle.