Litchfield enquirer., 1846-01-15
THE PILGRIMS VISION.
BY OLIVER WENDALL HOLMES.

BY OLIVER WENDALL HOLMES.
In the hour of twilight shadows
The puritan looked out
He thought of the " bloudv salvagcs"
That lurked all round about;
Of Wituwawmet's pictured knife
And Pecksuet's whooping shout
For the baby's flesh was tender,
Though his fathers arms were stout.
His home was the freezing cabin,
Too bare for the hungry rat,
Its roof was matched with ragged grass,
And bald enough Of that:
The hole tina: served for easement,
Was glazed with an ancient hat,
And the ice was gently thawing
From the log wherein he sat.
Along the dreary landscape
His eyes went to and fro,
The trees all clad in icicles,
The streams that did not flow
A sudden thought flashed DER him
A dream Of long ago;
He smote his leathern jerkin,
And murmured, Even sol"
"Come hither. Gcd be -Glorified,
And sit upon my knee,
Behold the dream unfolding,
Whereof spake to thee
By the winters hearth in Leyden.
And on the stormy sea
True is the dreams beginning,
So may its ending be
81 saw in the naked forest
Our scattered remnant cast,
A screen of shivering branches
Between them and the blast
The snow was falling round them,
The dying fell as fast;
looked to see them perish,
When 10! the vision passed.
"Again mine eyes were opened,
The feeble had waxed strong,
The babes had grown to study men,
The remnant was throng,
By Swallowed lake and winding stream
On all the shores along,
The bowling demons quaked to hear
The Christians godly song.
"They slept-the village fathers
Py river, lake, and shore,
When far adown the steep OF time
The vision rose once more;
saw along the winters snow
A spectral column pour,
And high above their broken ranks
A tattered flag they bore.
"Their Leader rode before them,
OF bearing calm and high,
The light OF Heavens own kindling
Throned in his awful eye;
These were Nations champions
Her dread appeal TO try;
God for tine right! faltered,
And 10. the train passed by.
"Once more-the strife was ended,
The solemn issue tried.
The Lord of Hosts. bis mighty arm
Had helped our Israel's side.
Gray stone and grassy hillock
Told where her martyrs died,
And peace was in the borders
OfVictory's chosen bride.
GA crash-as when some swollen cloud
Cracks DER the tangled trees!
With side to side, and spar to spar,
Whose smoking decks are these
know st. Georges blopd.red cross,
Thou Mistress of the Seas,
But what is she, whose streaming bars
Roll out before the breeze?
"Ah we'll her iron ribs are knit,
Whose thunders strive to Guell
The believing throats, the blazing lips,
That pealed the Armada's knell
The mist was cleared-a wreath OF stars
Rose DER the crimsoned swell,
And wavering from its naughty peak,
The cross Of England fell
60 trembling Faith though dark the morn
A heavenly torch is thine;
While feeblcr races melt away,
And paler orbs decline,
Still shall the fiery pillars ray
Along thy pathway shine.
To light the chosen tribe that sought
This Western Palestine.
al see the living tide roll on,
1t crowns with flaming towers
The icy capes of Labrador,
The Spaniard's &c land Of flowers :"
II streams beyond the splintered ridge
That parts the northern showers;
From eastern rock to sunset wave
The Continent is ours"
He ceased-the grim old Puritan
Then softly hsnt to cheer
The pilgrim child whose wasting face
Was meekly turned to hear;
And drew his toil-wOrn Sieve across,
To brush the manly tear.
From cheeks that never changed in wo,
And never blanched in fear.
The weary pilgrim slumbers.
His resting place unknown:
His hands were crossed, his lids were closed
The dust was DER him strown,
The drifting soil, the mouldering leaf,
Along the sod were blown,
His mound has melted into earth,
His memory lives alone.
So let il live unfading-
The memory Of the dead,
Long as the pale ancmone
Springs where tears are shed,
Or raining in the summers wind
In fakes OF burning red:
The wild-rcse sprinkled with its lives
The turf where once they bled
Yea, when the frowning bulwarks
That guard this holy strand,
Have sunk beneath the trampling surge
Tn beds Of sparkling sand
While in the waste of ocean,
One hoary rock shall stand,
Be this its latest legend
Here scas the Piisrim's Land!
HoD Royal Quarrels are made up
lUh;lo har Maioctv and pPinca Ather