Upon the cottage roof the Whip-poor-will That night sang mournful to the conscious glade; The lonely owl forsook her valley still, And perched and hooted in the neighboring shade; The wolf returned, and lapped the purling rill, Sate on its marge, and at the cottage bayed; From all its howling depths the desert came, And seemed its lost dominion to reclaim. CANTO NINTH. [SCENES. Seekonk’s Stream and Banks--Whatcheer Cove and Shore--Mooshausick’s Vale, or Site of Providence.] ’Tis early morn; Pawtucket’s torrent roar, A solemn bass to Nature’s anthem bold, Alone wakes Williams’ ear; its currents pour Along with foaming haste, where they have rolled Ages on ages, fretting here from shore The basin broad, and there ’twixt hill and wold Furrowing their channel deep; far hastening on, Now lost in shades, now glimmering in the sun. II. No thraldom had they known save winter’s frost; No exile yet had their free bosom borne; Deep in that glade (now to our Founder lost,) Their wave eternal had a basin worn; Oft thence their flow had borne the stealthy host, In light canoes, before the gray of morn, Darkling to strike the foe,--but now no more They bear the freight of men athirst for gore. III. Early that morn, beside the tranquil flood, Where ready trimmed rode Waban’s frail canoe, The banished man, his spouse and children, stood, And bade their lately blooming hopes adieu. The anxious mother had not yet subdued Despondent sorrow, and the briny dew Stole often down her cheeks; hers was the smart-- The searching anguish of the softer heart. IV. And, as she viewed the illimitable shade, The haunt of savage men and beasts of prey, She thought of all the dreadful ills arrayed Against her children on their dangerous way; “Ye houseless babes!” in her wild grief she said, “What crimes were yours, what dire offences, say, That even ye should share this cruel doom, Beg of barbarians bread, and savage deserts roam?” V. But Father Williams, to his lot resigned, Now rose to feelings of a loftier tone; For Heaven to vigor had restored his mind, And firmly braced it for the task unknown; He scarcely glanced upon the toils behind; His soul inspired did bolder visions own, That from his breast dispelled each dismal gloom, And cheered him onward to his destined home. VI. As the bold bird that builds her mansion high On beetling crag or helmlock’s lofty bough, Deep in the desert, far from human eye, And deems herself secure from every foe,-- Aloft in overshadowing branches nigh, Perceives the wild-cat’s threatening eye-balls glow, And spurns her eyry, with ascending flight To some tall ash that crests the mountain’s height; VII.