In the reign of king James (and the first of the name,) George Summers, with Hacluit, to Chesapeake came, Where far in the forests, not doomed to renown, On the river Powhatan[D] they built the first town.[E] [D] James River, Virginia.--_Freneau's note._ [E] James Town.--_Ib._ Twelve years after this, some scores of dissenters To the northernmost district came seeking adventures; Outdone by the bishops, those great faggot fighters; They left them to rule with their cassocks and mitres. Thus banished forever, and leaving the sod, The first land they saw was the pitch of Cape Cod, Where famished with hunger and quaking with cold They planned their New-Plymouth--so called from the old. They were, without doubt, a delightful collection;-- Some came to be rid of a Stuart's direction, Some sailed with a view to dominion and riches, Some to pray without book, and a few to hang witches. Some, came on the Indians to shed a new light, Convinced long before that their own must be right, And that all who had died in the centuries past On the devil's lee shore were eternally cast. These exiles were formed in a whimsical mould, And were awed by their priests, like the Hebrews of old; Disclaimed all pretences to jesting and laughter, And sighed their lives through, to be happy hereafter. On a crown immaterial their hearts were intent, They looked towards Zion, wherever they went, Did all things in hopes of a future reward, And worried mankind--for the sake of the Lord. With rigour excessive they strengthened their reign, Their laws were conceived in the ill-natured strain, With mystical meanings the saint was perplext, And the flesh and the devil were slain by a text. The body was scourged, for the good of the soul, All folly discouraged by peevish controul, A knot on the head was the sign of no grace, And the Pope and his comrade were pictured in lace. A stove in their churches, or pews lined with green, Were horrid to think of, much more to be seen, Their bodies were warmed with the linings of love, And the fire was sufficient that flashed from above. 'Twas a crime to assert that the moon was opaque, To say the earth moved, was to merit the stake; And he that could tell an eclipse was to be, In the college of Satan had took his degree. On Sundays their faces were dark as a cloud-- The road to the meeting was only allowed, And those they caught rambling, on business or pleasure, Were sent to the stocks, to repent at their leisure. This day was the mournfullest day in the week-- Except on religion, none ventured to speak-- This day was the day to examine their lives, To clear off old scores, and to preach to their wives.