The curse of Cain was on the earth;
   The leaden heavens frowned;
The winter closed with cruel dearth
   And gripped the fruitless ground.

Behind us rose the sombre wood,
   Before us stretched the foam —
A thousand leagues of briny flood
   That sundered us from home.

The meagre mussel was our meat;
   We robbed the squirrels' hoard;
Our barren glebe beneath our feet,
   We cried upon the Lord.

"Arouse your souls against despair,"
   The godly Winthrop said,
"And choose a day of fast and prayer,
   For, surely, He who led

Our wanderings across the wave
   Shall hear us when we plead.
And stretch a mighty arm to save
   His people in their need."

Behold! When all is black and drear
   And want assails the land,
How God delighteth to appear
   To work with wond'rous hand!

For, even as we made to deal
   To one that hungered sore,
The utmost handful of our meal,
   A shout arose from shore.

An hundred watching eyes descried
   Through winter's misty pall,
The good ship Lion breast the tide
   With provender for all.

Then joined the voice of first and least
   A hymn of thanks to raise,
Our day of fasting changed to feast
   And prayer gave way to praise

So once in every year we throng
   Upon a day apart,
To praise the Lord with feast and song
   In thankfulness of heart.