Their grief-stung hearts for Freedom's blessing yearned,
Where persecution's lash they need not fear.
In stately ships they sailed the ocean drear,
And more of trial and of hardship learned;
But in their loyal bosoms still there burned
Religious zeal that lent heroic cheer.
One hundred souls from Mother England came,
And many days fared on a storm-tossed sea,
Men, women, children, to be known to Fame
For braving death for sacred Liberty.
To our bleak, shelt'ring port they gave a name,
And marked an epoch in our history.
SONG
A merry song the pilgrim sang
To check the sigh of pain,
At thought of leaving his dear home
He ne'er might see again.
'Twas o-ho-ho and ah-ha-ha,
He laughed and sang alway;
When comrades' eyes were filled with tears,
Or sad heads turned away.
A cheery song, a merry song,
As o'er Life's sea we sail,
Will send a thrill of courage new
To hearts about to fail.
So sound a note, oh singer brave,
Whate'er your own soul's pain;
When time repeats its echo sweet,
'Twill bless your life again.
IN DEEP WOODS
A solitary soul, I walk at eve
Without the village walls, and in the deep
And sacred hush of woods, where fairies sleep,
Calm Nature soothes my senses, and I live
In realms that only creatures can conceive,
Who with their holy guardian spirits keep
Firm faith, and into loving arms I creep,
And mundane cares no more my spirit grieve.
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