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THE PILGRIMS AT ANCHOR.

Amid the storm they sang,

And the stars heard, and the sea;

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

With the anthem of the free!

The ocean eagle soared

From his nest by the white waves' foam,
And the rocking pines of the forest roared;
This was their welcome home.

There were men with hoary hair
Amid that pilgrim band;
Why had they come to wither there,
Away from their childhood's land?

There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar?

Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas? the spoils of war?

They sought a faith's pure shrine!

Ay, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod :

They have left unstained what there they found—

FREEDOM TO WORSHIP GOD!

FELICIA HEMANS.

THE PILGRIMS AT ANCHOR.

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At a Pilgrim celebration in Boston, held November 11th, 1851, the Rev. Charles Brooks said: "It may not be uninteresting to state the cause and occasion of the writing of that popular little poem on the Landing of Pilgrim Fathers,' by Mrs. Hemans. During a short and delightful stay at her house in Dublin, Ireland, in July, 1834, I had a long conversation with her. She expressed a deep interest in the United States; and said that she had been better understood in Massachusetts than in England.

"I told her that, as a member of the Old Colony Pilgrim Society, I had a right to thank her, in their name, for her true and touching little poem on the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. Well,' said she, 'should you like to know how I came to write it ? I purchased two volumes at the bookstore, and brought them home, and, as I laid them on my table, my eye was attracted by their envelope, which proved to be eight pages 8vo of an address delivered at Plymouth on some anniversary. The excellence of the paper and the beauty of the type arrested my attention; but how this stray fragment got to Ireland, I could never ascertain. I began to read, and I found it contained an entire description of the fact of landing, and so beautiful was the painting, and so thrilling the fact, that I could not rest till I had thrown them into verse. Ι took off my bonnet, seized my pen, and, having read and re-read the story, I caught the fire from this transatlantic torch, and began to write, and before I was aware I had finished my poem.'

"I then told her how much we valued the lines for their truthfulness and spirit, and how I had stood with a thous and persons in the old Pilgrim Church, at Plymouth, on 'Forefathers' Day,' and sung with them her exquisite hymn. At this remark a tear stole into her eye. But,' said I, 'my dear madam, there are two lines of that poem which the descendants of the pilgrims prize above the rest.' Ah! which are they?' I began to repeat- They left unstained what there they found;' 'O! yes,' said she, interrupting me hastily, and then reciting the next line, Freedom to worship God.' 'Yes,' I replied, 'Freedom to worship God.' Then raising her voice, her eye at the same moment beaming with religious enthusiasm, she exclaimed: 'It is the TRUTH there, which makes the poetry.'

"When about to say farewell to this charming lady, she took my hand, and said-'When you next meet with your Pilgrim Society, present them my heartfelt thanks for their flattering partiality towards me, and tell them that I wish every one of them prosperity and happiness.'

HYMN.

GOD of our fathers, to Thy throne
Our grateful songs we raise;
Thou art our God, and Thou alone,-
Accept our humble praise.

Unnumbered benefits from Thee

Are showered upon our land; Behold! through all our coasts we see The bounties of Thy hand.

Here Thou wert once the Pilgrims' guide;
Thou gav'st them here a place,
Where freedom spreads its blessings wide,
O'er all their favoured race.

Here, Lord, Thy gospel's holy light
Is shed on all our hills;

And, like the rains and dews of night,

Celestial grace distils.

Still teach us, Lord, Thy name to fear,
And still our guardian be;

O let our children's children here

For ever worship Thee.

THE MAYFLOWER.

O, little Fleet!-that, on thy quest divine,
Sailedst from Palos one bright autumn morn,-
Say, has Old Ocean's bosom ever borne

A freight of Faith and Hope, to match with thine?

Say, too, has Heaven's high favour given again
Such consummation of desire, as shone

About Columbus, when he rested on
The new-found world and married it to Spain ?

Answer, thou refuge of the freeman's need,

Thou for whose destinies no kings looked out,
Nor sages to resolve some mighty doubt,
Thou simple Mayflower of the salt-sea mead!

When thou wert wafted to that distant shore,
Gay flowers, bright birds, rich odours, met thee not,
Stern nature hail'd thee to a sterner lot-

God

gave free earth and air, and gave no more.

Thus to men cast in that heroic mould

Came empire, such as Spaniard never knew—
Such empire as beseems the just and true;
And at the last, almost unsought, came gold.

But He, who rules both calm and stormy days,
Can guard that people's heart, that nation's health,
Safe on the perilous heights of power and wealth,
As in the straitness of the ancient ways.

RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES.

CLARK'S ISLAND.*

HAIL, hallowed spot! where Freedom's rays
First darted o'er the wanderer's ways,
And gave him rest;

First brought the dawn of brighter days,
Thy shores are blest!

But dark the clouds that lingered round
The island which the Pilgrims found,
In time long gone;

And deep and drear the thrilling sound
Of gathering storm.

Aye, dark indeed, the night of yore,
That rocked the Mayflower near thy shore
On wintry tides;

For dark the waves that round thee roar,

And wash thy sides.

* A small island at the entrance of Plymouth Bay, Mass. At the highest point of land is a gray rock, commanding a view of the surrounding shores. Here the Pilgrims, having posted a sentinel, kept their first Sabbath in New England. Under the shelter of this gray rock the pastor of the Church of the Pilgrim Fathers in Southwark united in worship with descendants of the Pilgrims. On the day when the foundation-stone of the Monument at Plymouth was laid, Dr. Waddington also stood on the rock where the Pilgrims landed after leaving Clark's Island, and offered prayer for America and England.