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SUFFERINGS AND DESTINY OF THE PILGRIMS
EDWARD EVERETT

Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous vessel, the
Mayflower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a future
state, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a
thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and
set, and weeks and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep,
but brings them not the sight of the wished-for shore. I see them now,
scantily supplied with provisions, crowded almost to suffocation in
their ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route;
and now driven in fury before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy
wave. The awful voice of the storm howls through the rigging; the
laboring masts seem straining from their base; the dismal sound of the
pumps is heard; the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to
billow; the ocean breaks and settles with ingulfing floods over the
floating deck, and beats with deadening, shivering weight against the
staggered vessel.


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