In April, 1621, Governor Carver died. “Whilst they were busy about their seed, he came out of the field very sick, it being a hot day. He complained greatly of his head, and lay down; within a few hours his senses failed, and he never spoke more. His death was much lamented, and caused great heaviness, as there was cause.”[196] Shortly after, William Bradford, the historian of the colony, was elected governor, “and being not yet recovered from a severe illness, in which he had been near the point of death, Isaac Allerton was chosen to be an assistant unto him.”[197] On the very day of Carver’s death, the 5th of April, the “Mayflower” sailed for England.[198] Not a soul returned in her of that devoted band. It has been well said that the departure of the “Mayflower” surpasses in dignity, though not in desperation, the burning of his ships by Cortez. Through the struggles of the winter she had always been in sight, a place of refuge and relief in any desperate emergency. While the good ship lay moored in Plymouth harbor, they had a hold upon the outer world. But now, as grouped upon the shore they stood and watched her, as she slowly spread her sails and crept out of the bay and from their sight, they felt inexpressibly dreary and bereaved: when the sun set in the western forest, the “Mayflower” had disappeared in the distant blue.[199] “Can ye scan the woe That wrings their bosoms, as this last frail link Binding to man and habitable earth Is severed? Can ye tell what pangs were there, What keen regrets, what sickness of the heart, What yearning o’er their forfeit land of birth; Their distant dear ones?”[200] But they did not long despair. “The sky was not inky, nor their future desperate,” says Elliot; “the sun still shone gloriously; the moon still bathed the earth with light; and the stars kept their ceaseless vigils. Spring here, as of old, followed winter, the murmuring of streams was heard, and the song of the turtle; birds builded their nests, the tender grass sprang up under their feet, and the trees budded and burst forth in wondrous beauty. God was over all—God, their God, their Friend—their protector here as in the older world; nay, more their helper now than ever before,”[201] for they were the orphans of humanity. CHAPTER VIII. THE FIRST SUMMER IN NEW ENGLAND. “The spring’s gay promise melted into thee, Fair summer; and thy gentle reign is here; Thy emerald robes are on each leafy tree; In the blue sky thy voice is rich and clear; And the free brooks have songs to bless thy reign— They leap in music ’midst thy bright domain.” WILLIS G. CLARK.