John Greenleaf Whittier,
Bay of Seven Islands, and other poems
“ Drive out of their bodies the Father of Lies, Who through them preaches and prophesies!"So into the forest they held their way, By winding river and frost-rimmed bay, Over wind-swept hills that felt the beat Of the winter sea at their icy feet.The Indian hunter, searching his traps, Peered stealthily through the forest gaps; And the outlying settler shook his head,— "They're witches going to jail," he said.At last a meeting-house came in view; A blast on his horn the constable blew; And the boys of Hampton cried up and down, "The Quakers have come!" to the wondering town. ”
