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Story of the Royall house.

Read before the Boston Tea Party Chapter, D. A. R., upon the completion of their room in the Royall House. In this room is one of the original tea chests that was emptied into the big teapot (Boston Harbor) on December 16, 1773.

Under the grand old forest trees,
     With a song on his lips and a gun in his hand,
John Winthrop walked over the hills and the leas,
     And gazed with calm pride on God's gift of land.
Ten Hills’ pointed upwards toward Heaven's own blue,
     All around him the woods grew dense and tall,
He walked till the path was lost to view;
     And the sound of the winds and the night birds' call,
Were all familiar things he knew;
     The dark came down, but he felt no fear,
He lighted a fire, and sung a psalm,
     His voice in thanksgiving rang true and clear,
For he trusted in God to keep him from harm.
     When daylight came he looked around,
‘I will build me a house on this land’ said he;
     “The oak and the pine shall be cut for the frame,
The bricks shall be brought from over the sea,”
     So the house was finished for Governor John,
And time went on. [p. 77]
     A hundred years went by, and the house still stood,
When up from the tropics a nabob came,
     With his wealth and rich wines and a roll call of slaves;
And a world of work and a glorious fame
     Awaited the house and the ancient town.
There were long years of pleasure and laughter and mirth
     From the maids so merry who thronged the stair,
With the courteous lads who sought their love,
     And the stately dames so gracious and fair.
Then came rumors of war, and the cannons' peal,
     Every window pane rattled, the timbers shook
With the boom of the guns at Bunker Hill;
     And the house was filled with fighting men
Who fought for their homes and to do God's will,
     And time went on.

Nearly a century more rolled by,
     The house was filled with peace and love,
A home with loyal hearts and true,
     And the quiet rest, as of brooding dove.
Then came a day when all was changed,
     Deserted and lonely the old house stood;
Sad and neglected the roses bloomed,
     And the wild winds whistled a requiem rude,
And time went on.

The house appealed to many a heart,
     And willing hands and workers of skill
Each vied with the other to do a part,
     And bring beauty and grace to the house on the hill.
So now we are gladdened, our hearts are gay,
     We have wrought the good work, our task is done;
We welcome our friends who are with us to-day,
     And cordially thank them every one.

Clara E. Gowing. April 1, 1911.

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