His fast he broke with the accustomed prayer,
And trimmed him for his walk to Seekonk’s side;
Calm was the morn, and pure the winter air,
As from the wigwam forth our Founder hied;
So tall the pines—so thick the branches were,
That, through their screens, the heavens were scarce espied;
But melting snows and dripping foliage prove
The South blows warmer in the fields above.
LXV.
Now from the swamp to upland woods he past,