Strange folk who trod the bleak New England shores,
Tithingmen, Sachems, Witches, Sagamores,
Puritans, Soldiers, Scholars, Quaker maids,
Royalists splendid in their rich brocades!
To-day the past has opened wide her door,
Scenes long since gone return to us once more,
Touched with the alchemy of history's gold.
First, ancient Salem, as it was, behold
In the grim days when "Witchcraft!" was the cry,
When folk declared that they saw witches fly
On devil's broomsticks straight across the moon,
While the wind piped by night a witch's tune;
When, e'en by day, intrepid witch-wives spoke,
Then vanished upward through the chimney smoke!
The Witches' Wood--this our first scene will show,
And all that once transpired there long ago.
Our second scene will picture Merrymount
Where lived gay royalists who took no count
Of Puritanic manners, and who sang
And laughed till all the woods about them rang
With outlaw merriment. These you will see
Engaged in maypole dance and minstrelsy,
While Puritans with grave and somber mien
Condemn such light-foot revels on the green!
These have you known on Hawthorne's living page.
Now shall you see them pictured on our stage.
Grant us your patience: lend your ears as well.
The rest our pageant now will strive to tell.