Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
Roger Williams
By Sarah Helen Whitman (18031878)L
To songs of lofty cheer,
Who in the howling wilderness,
Mid forests wild and drear,
Through the long winter nights,
But uttered in exulting song,
The soul’s unchartered rights;
In the heart’s veiléd shrine,
Nor asked the monarch nor the priest,
His sacred laws to sign.
Its liberty of thought,
Far o’er the melancholy main,
Through bitter trials brought;
By Faith’s pure guidance led,—
Through the dark labyrinth of life,
Held fast her golden thread.
Perchance may linger still
In the old familiar places
Beneath the emerald hill.
On Seekonk’s lonely side,
Where the dusk natives hailed the bark
That bore their gentle guide.
In music on his ear,
Still pours its waters, undefiled,
The fainting heart to cheer.
Beneath o’ershadowing hills,
And bore the exile’s evening psalm
Far up its flowery rills,—
The pilgrim’s light canoe,
As if an angel’s balmy wing
Had stirred its waters blue,—
Has swept its cooling tide,
And fast before its withering blast,
The rushing wave has dried,
A fair enchanted mere,—
In the proud city’s throbbing heart
It sleeps serene and clear.
There, with the spring-time showers,
The white-thorn o’er a nameless grave,
Rains its pale, silver flowers.
Nor vainly seeks to trace
His footprints on a rock, whence time
Nor tempests can efface;
The roof-tree of a home
Wide as the wings of Love may sweep,
Free as her thoughts may roam;
And from pure fountains draw
That peace which passeth human thought,
In liberty and law.