Came they like joyous streams, to their first untroubled fountain,
Knowing better how to prize it, from the rocks that had barred their course.
In primitive guise, journeyed homeward those dispersed ones.
Rare, in these days, was the carriage, or stage-coach for the traveller;
Roads, unmacadamized, making rude havoc of delicate springs.
Around the door, horses gather with the antique side-saddle and pillion,
Led thence to the full barn, while their riders find heartfelt welcome.
Then all whom culinary cares release, hasten to the House of Worship,
Religion being invoked to sanction the rejoicing of the fathers.
Plain was the village-church, a structure of darkened wood,