I first laid eyes on their rev'd leader
What my eyes fix'd upon in 1621
No Englishman my age 'ad e'er seen -
The Wampanoag brought venison
Our harvest thanks had corn mush and beans
I felt less my age, nigh seventeen
To learn Massasoit's thanks were daily said -
Not savage, rather like my own dead kin.
I wonder what else goes through his head.
My heart now only stores a year's journey
When we English on Patuxet shored
Mayflower stay'd for us, slender few
Land'd mostly children, 'n were ignored
By Spring the ground held fifty-two
Harsh times, hard commons God hath deign'd
Our prayers whispered reflect Pilgrim pride
Yet they aid; Late summer and August rains
Pray, my people, and rejoice, mouth wide
I think on Grace; as their words, I cannot
In this our indian visitors share
Youthful, new-found, like God brings the dawn
With the freedom of my beliefs, I care
O Plimouth shall last 'ere our meal is done.
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