But on Aquidnay dwelt our Founder’s gaze, Enraptured still. “Would Seekonk’s mead compare With yon wild Eden?” While he thus delays, The old chief’s hand does on his bosom bear, As he explains: “Another sachem sways The isle of peace. All Haup’s dominions are Stretched tow’rd the God of frost--look there and choose; All thou hast won, and well a part mayst use.” LXXI. Turned by the words that gently woke his ears, Before his eyes a boundless forest lay; The mossy giants of a thousand years, O’er hill and plain their mighty arms display; Mound after mound, far lessening north, appears, Till in blue haze they seem to melt away; Here Seekonk wedded with Mooshausick beamed, And there Cohannet’s liquid silver gleamed. LXXII. Here Kikimuet left his woodland height, Bright in the clear, or dark beneath the shade; There Sowams gleamed,--if names the muse aright, Till in the forest far his glories fade; While here and there, rose curling on his sight The village smokes of many a sheltered glade; And, nearer, clustered at the mountain’s base, The foremost town of Pokanoket’s race. LXXIII. Embosomed there in massy shades it stood; Its frequent voices, up the silent steep, Came on our Founder’s ear;--in cheerful mood, The tones of childhood shrill, and manhood deep, Told him what sports, what toils were there pursued; Or, wild and clear, the melody would sweep Of girlish voices, warbling plaintive strains, Half chant, half music, over woods and plains. LXXIV. Ah! how more lovely than the silence hushed, That lists in horror for the foeman’s tread! A tender joy our Father’s bosom flushed,-- The work was his that had these blessings spread; The storm, that else had o’er the nation rushed, Had by his sufferings and his toils been stayed; And as he mused, his hand the Sachem pressed, For like emotions swelled his rugged breast. LXXV. “And oh!” he cried, “what can the Sachem do? How can he give to Winiams recompense? Our foes were many, and our warriors few, But Winiams came, and he was our defence; Go, brother, plant--go, plant our forest through-- All hast thou won by thy benevolence; All hast thou saved from ruthless enemies, Take what thou wilt, and take what best may please.” LXXVI. Our Father answered--“give me bounds and deeds-- No lands I take but such as parchment names; To future ages will I leave no seeds To yield a harvest of discordant claims; If name I must, I name fair Seekonk’s meads-- What first I craved still satisfies my aims; These and the friendship of my neighbors are Reward too generous for my toil and care.” LXXVII.