Ellen Coit Brown.
LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS.
42. The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods, against a stormy sky,
Their giant branches tossed.
43. And the heavy night hung dark
The woods and waters o'er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
44. Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;
Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that speaks of fame;
45. Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear—
They shook the depths of the desert's gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.
46. Amidst the storm they sang;
And the stars heard, and the sea;
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang
To the anthem of the free!
47. The ocean eagle soared
From his nest by the white wave's foam,
And the rocking pines of the forest roared—
This was their welcome home.
Mrs. Hemans
[Illustration: Landing of the Pilgrims]