Lost many a time, I have had no guide, No house, but hollow tree! In stormy winter night no fire, No food, no company: In him I found a house, a bed, A table, company: No cup so bitter, but's made sweet, When God shall sweetning be. ROGER WILLIAMS. Williams went to Narragansett Bay, where he bargained with Canonicus for the land he wanted, and laid the foundations of the present city of Providence. CANONICUS AND ROGER WILLIAMS [1636] Content within his wigwam warm, Canonicus sate by the fire; Without, the voices of the storm Shrieked ever high and higher. Eager and wild, the spiteful wind Tore at the thatch with fingers strong; The Sachem fed the fire within And hummed a hunting-song. Sudden upon the crusted snow He caught a sound not of the storm-- A sound of footsteps dragging slow Towards his shelter warm. He drew aside the flap of skin; A stranger at the threshold stood; Canonicus bade him enter in, And gave him drink and food. His hand he gave in friendship true, Land for a home gave he; And he learned of the love of Christ Jesu, Who died upon the tree. To the stranger guest sweet life he gave; For a State he saved its Sire; Yea, and his own soul did he save From burning in hell-fire. Scarcely were the Massachusetts magistrates rid of Williams, when they found themselves engaged in a much more threatening controversy with Mrs. Anne Hutchinson and her adherents, who believed in various "dangerous errors," and carried their contempt for the constituted ministry to the point of rising and marching out of the Boston church when its respected pastor, John Wilson, arose to speak. The other ministers of the colony rallied to Wilson's support, the General Court summoned Mrs. Hutchinson before it in November, 1637, and pronounced sentence of banishment, which was put into effect March 28, 1638. ANNE HUTCHINSON'S EXILE [March 28, 1638] "Home, home--where's my baby's home? Here we seek, there we seek, my baby's home to find. Come, come, come, my baby, come! We found her home, we lost her home, and home is far behind. Come, my baby, come! Find my baby's home!" The baby clings; the mother sings; the pony stumbles on; The father leads the beast along the tangled, muddy way; The boys and girls trail on behind; the sun will soon be gone, And starlight bright will take again the place of sunny day. "Home, home--where's my baby's home? Here we seek, there we seek, my baby's home to find. Come, come, come, my baby, come! We found her home, we lost her home, and home is far behind. Come, my baby, come! Find my baby's home!"