66 nd what a fate awaits thee ? — a sadly toiling slave, Oh ! — ever as the Tempter spoke, and feeble Nature's fears I thought of Paul and Silas, within Phillippi's cell, Bless the Lord for all His mercies ! for the peace and love I felt, Slow broke the gray cold morning ; again the sunshine fell, At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was open cast, Oh, Lord ! support thy handmaid ; and from her soul cast out doubt.” Then the dreary shadows scattered like a cloud in morning's breeze, And a low deep voice within me seemed whispering words like these : “ Though thy earth be as the iron, and thy heaven a brazen wall, Trust still His loving kindness whose power is over all.” We paused at length, where at my feet the sunlit waters broke On glaring reach of shining beach, and shingly wall of rock ; The merchant-ships lay idly there, in hard clear lines on high, Tracing with rope and slender spar their net-work on the sky. And there were ancient citizens, cloak-wrapped and grave and cold, And grim and stout sea-captains with faces bronzed and old, And on his horse, with Rawson, his cruel clerk at hand, Sat dark and haughty Endicott, the ruler of the land. And poisoning with his evil words the ruler's ready ear, I cried, “ The Lord rebuke thee, thou smiter of the meek, Dark lowered the brows of Endicott, and with a deeper red O'er Rawson's wine-empurpled cheek the flush of anger spread ; “Good people," quoth the white-lipped priest,, "heed not her words so wild, Her Master speaks within her the Devil owns his child !” But gray heads shook, and young brows knit, the while the sheriff read Then to the stout sea-captains the sheriff turning said : Grim and silent stood the captains ; and when again he cried, “Speak out, my worthy seamen !” — no voice, no sign replied ; But I felt a hard hand press my own, and kind words met my ear: “God bless thee, and preserve thee, my gentle girl and dear!” A weight seemed lifted from my heart, - a pitying friend was nigh, I felt it in his hard, rough hand, and saw it in his eye ; And when again the sheriff spoke, that voice, so kind to me, Growled back its stormy answer like the roaring of the sea : ( “ Pile my ship with bars of silver — pack with coins of Spanish gold, From keel-piece up to deck-plank, the roomage of her hold, By the living God who made me ! — I would sooner in your bay Sink ship and crew and cargo, than bear this child away !” “ Well answered, worthy captain, shame on their cruel laws !” Ran through the crowd in murmurs loud the people's just applause.) “ Like the herdsman of Tekoa, in Israel of old, Shall we see the poor and righteous again for silver sold ? ” I looked on haughty Endicott ; with weapon half way drawn, Swept round the throng his lion glare of bitter hate and scorn ; Fiercely he drew his bridle rein, and turned in silence back, And sneering priest and baffled clerk rode murmuring in his track. Hard after them the sheriff looked, in bitterness of soul ; ment roll. “ Good friends,” he said, “ since both have fled, the ruler and the priest, Judge ye, if from their further work I be not well released.” Loud was the cheer which, full and clear, swept round the silent bay, As, with kind words and kinder looks, he bade me go my way ; For He who turns the courses of the streamlet of the glen, Oh, at that hour the very earth seemed changed beneath my eye, Thanksgiving to the Lord of life! - to Him all praises be, Sing, oh, my soul, rejoicingly, on evening's twilight calm And weep and howl, ye evil priests and mighty men of wrong, strong. But let the humble ones arise, — the poor in heart be glad, FUNERAL TREE OF THE SOKOKIS. AROUND Sebago's lonely lake The solemn pines along its shore, The sun looks o'er, with hazy eye, Dazzling and white ! save where the bleak, Yet green are Saco's banks below, The earth hath felt the breath of spring, * Polan, a chief of the Sokokis Indians, the original inhabitants of the country lying between Agamenticus and Casco bay, was killed in a skirmish at Windham, on the Sebago lake, in the spring of 1756. He claimed all the lands on both sides of the Presumpscot river to its mouth at Casco, as his own. He was shrewd, subtle, and brave. After the white men had retired, the surviving Indians “swayed” or bent down a young tree until its roots were turned up, placed the body of their chief beneath them, and then released the tree to spring back to its former position |