Chapter 14

1.Sir Ulric a Southern dame has wed;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;He has brought her home to his bower and bed.Hither and thither the birds fly home.Her hair is darker than thick of night;Wild winds whistle, &c.Her hands are fair, and her step is light.Hither and thither, &c.From out his castel in the NorthSir Ulric to hunt rode lightly forth.Three things he left her for good or ill,—A bonny bird that should sing at will,With carol sweeter than silver bell,Day and night in the old castel;A lithe little page to gather flowers;And a crystal dial to mark the hours.2.Lady Margaret watched Sir Ulric speedAway to the chase on his faithful steed.From morning till night, the first day long,She sat and listened the bonny bird’s song.The second day long, with fingers fair,She curled and combed her page’s hair.The third day’s sun rose up on high;By the dial she was seated nigh:She loathed the bird and the page’s face,And counted the shadow’s creeping pace.3.The strange knight drew his bridle-rein;He looked at the sky and he looked at the plain.“O lady!” he said, “’twas a sin and shameTo leave for the chase so fair a dame.“O lady!” he said, “we two will fleeTo the blithesome land of Italie;“There the orange grows, and the fruitful vine,And a bower of myrtle shall be thine.”He has taken her hand and kissed her mouth:Now Ho! sing Ho! for the sunny South.He has kissed her mouth and clasped her waist:Now, good gray steed, make haste, make haste!4.Sir Ulric back from the chase has come,And sounds the horn at his castel-home.Or ever he drew his bridle-rein,He saw the dial split in twain;The bonny blithe bird was stark and dead,And the lithe little page hung down his head.The lithe little page hung down his head;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;“O where, Sir Page, has my lady fled?”Hither and thither the birds fly home.

1.Sir Ulric a Southern dame has wed;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;He has brought her home to his bower and bed.Hither and thither the birds fly home.Her hair is darker than thick of night;Wild winds whistle, &c.Her hands are fair, and her step is light.Hither and thither, &c.From out his castel in the NorthSir Ulric to hunt rode lightly forth.Three things he left her for good or ill,—A bonny bird that should sing at will,With carol sweeter than silver bell,Day and night in the old castel;A lithe little page to gather flowers;And a crystal dial to mark the hours.2.Lady Margaret watched Sir Ulric speedAway to the chase on his faithful steed.From morning till night, the first day long,She sat and listened the bonny bird’s song.The second day long, with fingers fair,She curled and combed her page’s hair.The third day’s sun rose up on high;By the dial she was seated nigh:She loathed the bird and the page’s face,And counted the shadow’s creeping pace.3.The strange knight drew his bridle-rein;He looked at the sky and he looked at the plain.“O lady!” he said, “’twas a sin and shameTo leave for the chase so fair a dame.“O lady!” he said, “we two will fleeTo the blithesome land of Italie;“There the orange grows, and the fruitful vine,And a bower of myrtle shall be thine.”He has taken her hand and kissed her mouth:Now Ho! sing Ho! for the sunny South.He has kissed her mouth and clasped her waist:Now, good gray steed, make haste, make haste!4.Sir Ulric back from the chase has come,And sounds the horn at his castel-home.Or ever he drew his bridle-rein,He saw the dial split in twain;The bonny blithe bird was stark and dead,And the lithe little page hung down his head.The lithe little page hung down his head;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;“O where, Sir Page, has my lady fled?”Hither and thither the birds fly home.

1.

Sir Ulric a Southern dame has wed;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;He has brought her home to his bower and bed.Hither and thither the birds fly home.

Sir Ulric a Southern dame has wed;

Wild winds whistle and snow is come;

He has brought her home to his bower and bed.

Hither and thither the birds fly home.

Her hair is darker than thick of night;Wild winds whistle, &c.Her hands are fair, and her step is light.Hither and thither, &c.

Her hair is darker than thick of night;

Wild winds whistle, &c.

Her hands are fair, and her step is light.

Hither and thither, &c.

From out his castel in the NorthSir Ulric to hunt rode lightly forth.

From out his castel in the North

Sir Ulric to hunt rode lightly forth.

Three things he left her for good or ill,—A bonny bird that should sing at will,

Three things he left her for good or ill,—

A bonny bird that should sing at will,

With carol sweeter than silver bell,Day and night in the old castel;

With carol sweeter than silver bell,

Day and night in the old castel;

A lithe little page to gather flowers;And a crystal dial to mark the hours.

A lithe little page to gather flowers;

And a crystal dial to mark the hours.

2.

Lady Margaret watched Sir Ulric speedAway to the chase on his faithful steed.

Lady Margaret watched Sir Ulric speed

Away to the chase on his faithful steed.

From morning till night, the first day long,She sat and listened the bonny bird’s song.

From morning till night, the first day long,

She sat and listened the bonny bird’s song.

The second day long, with fingers fair,She curled and combed her page’s hair.

The second day long, with fingers fair,

She curled and combed her page’s hair.

The third day’s sun rose up on high;By the dial she was seated nigh:

The third day’s sun rose up on high;

By the dial she was seated nigh:

She loathed the bird and the page’s face,And counted the shadow’s creeping pace.

She loathed the bird and the page’s face,

And counted the shadow’s creeping pace.

3.

The strange knight drew his bridle-rein;He looked at the sky and he looked at the plain.

The strange knight drew his bridle-rein;

He looked at the sky and he looked at the plain.

“O lady!” he said, “’twas a sin and shameTo leave for the chase so fair a dame.

“O lady!” he said, “’twas a sin and shame

To leave for the chase so fair a dame.

“O lady!” he said, “we two will fleeTo the blithesome land of Italie;

“O lady!” he said, “we two will flee

To the blithesome land of Italie;

“There the orange grows, and the fruitful vine,And a bower of myrtle shall be thine.”

“There the orange grows, and the fruitful vine,

And a bower of myrtle shall be thine.”

He has taken her hand and kissed her mouth:Now Ho! sing Ho! for the sunny South.

He has taken her hand and kissed her mouth:

Now Ho! sing Ho! for the sunny South.

He has kissed her mouth and clasped her waist:Now, good gray steed, make haste, make haste!

He has kissed her mouth and clasped her waist:

Now, good gray steed, make haste, make haste!

4.

Sir Ulric back from the chase has come,And sounds the horn at his castel-home.

Sir Ulric back from the chase has come,

And sounds the horn at his castel-home.

Or ever he drew his bridle-rein,He saw the dial split in twain;

Or ever he drew his bridle-rein,

He saw the dial split in twain;

The bonny blithe bird was stark and dead,And the lithe little page hung down his head.

The bonny blithe bird was stark and dead,

And the lithe little page hung down his head.

The lithe little page hung down his head;Wild winds whistle and snow is come;“O where, Sir Page, has my lady fled?”Hither and thither the birds fly home.

The lithe little page hung down his head;

Wild winds whistle and snow is come;

“O where, Sir Page, has my lady fled?”

Hither and thither the birds fly home.

Where nowadays the Battery lies,New York had just begun,A new-born babe, to rub its eyes,In Sixteen Sixty-One.They christened it Nieuw Amsterdam,Those burghers grave and stately,And so, with schnapps and smoke and psalm,Lived out their lives sedately.Two windmills topped their wooden wall,On Stadthuys gazing down,On fort, and cabbage-plots, and allThe quaintly gabled town;These flapped their wings and shifted backs,As ancient scrolls determine,To scare the savage Hackensacks,Paumanks, and other vermin.At night the loyal settlers layBetwixt their feather-beds;In hose and breeches walked by day,And smoked, and wagged their heads.No changeful fashions came from France,The vrouwleins to bewilder;No broad-brimmed burgher spent for pantsHis every other guilder.In petticoats of linsey-red,And jackets neatly kept,The vrouws their knitting-needles spedAnd deftly spun and swept.Few modern-school flirtations thereSet wheels of scandal trundling,But youths and maidens did their shareOf staid, old-fashioned bundling.—The New Year opened clear and cold;The snow, a Flemish ellIn depth, lay over Beeckman’s WoldAnd Wolfert’s frozen well.Each burgher shook his kitchen-doors,Drew on his Holland leather,Then stamped through drifts to do the chores,Beshrewing all such weather.But—after herring, ham, and kraut—To all the gathered townThe Dominie preached the morning out,In Calvanistic gown;While tough old Peter StuyvesantSat pewed in foremost station,—The potent, sage, and valiantThird Governor of the nation.Prayer over, at his mansion hall,With cake and courtly smileHe met the people, one and all,In gubernatorial style;Yet missed, though now the day was old,An ancient fellow-feaster,—Heer Govert Loockermans, that boldBrewer and burgomeester;Who, in his farm-house, close withoutThe picket’s eastern end,Sat growling at the twinge of goutThat kept him from his friend.But Peter strapped his wooden peg,When tea and cake were ended(Meanwhile the sound remaining legIts high jack-boot defended),A woolsey cloak about him threw,And swore, by wind and limb,Since Govert kept from Peter’s view,Peter would visit him;Then sallied forth, through snow and blast,While many a humble greeterStood wondering whereaway so fastStrode bluff Hardkoppig Pieter.Past quay and cowpath, through a laneOf vats and mounded tans,He puffed along, with might and main,To Govert Loockermans;Once there, his right of entry took,And hailed his ancient crony:“Myn Gott! in dese Manhattoes, Loock,Ve gets more snow as money!”To which, till after whiffs profound,The other answered not;At last there came responsive sound:“Yah, Peter; yah, Myn Gott!”Then goedevrouw Marie sat her guestBeneath the chimney-gable,And courtesied, bustling at her bestTo spread the New Year’s table.She brought the pure and genial schnapps,That years before had come—In the “Nieuw Nederlandts,” perhaps—To cheer the settlers’ home;The long-stemmed pipes; the fragrant rollOf pressed and crispy Spanish;Then placed the earthen mugs and bowl,Nor long delayed to vanish.Thereat, with cheery nod and wink,And honors of the day,The trader mixed the Governor’s drinkAs evening sped away.That ancient room! I see it now:The carven nutwood dresser;The drawers, that many a burgher’s vrouwBegrudged their rich possessor;The brace of high-backed leathern chairs,Brass-nailed at every seam;Six others, ranged in equal pairs;The bacon hung abeam;The chimney-front, with porcelain shelft;The hearty wooden fire;The picture, on the steaming delft,Of David and Goliah.I see the two old Dutchmen sitLike Magog and his mate,And hear them, when their pipes are lit,Discuss affairs of state:The clique that would their sway demean;The pestilent importationOf wooden nutmegs, from the leanAnd losel Yankee nation.But when the subtle juniperAssumed its sure command,They drank the buxom loves that were,—They drank the Motherland;They drank the famous Swedish wars,Stout Peter’s special glory,While Govert proudly showed the scarsOf Indian contests gory.Erelong, the berry’s power awokeSome music in their brains,And, trumpet-like, through rolling smoke,Rang long-forgotten strains,—Old Flemish snatches, full of blood,Of phantom ships and battle;And Peter, with his leg of wood,Made floor and casement rattle.Then round and round the dresser pranced,The chairs began to wheel,And on the board the punch-bowl dancedA Netherlandish reel;Till midnight o’er the farm-house spreadHer New-Year’s skirts of sable,And, inch by inch, each puzzled headDropt down upon the table.But still to Peter, as he dreamed,That table spread and turned;The chimney-log blazed high, and seemedTo circle as it burned;The town into the vision grewFrom ending to beginning;Fort, wall, and windmill met his view,All widening and spinning.The cowpaths, leading to the docks,Grew broader, whirling past,And checkered into shining blocks,—A city fair and vast;Stores, churches, mansions, overspreadThe metamorphosed island,While not a beaver showed his headFrom Swamp to Kalchook highland.Eftsoons the picture passed away;Hours after, Peter wokeTo see a spectral streak of dayGleam in through fading smoke;Still slept old Govert, snoring onIn most melodious numbers;No dreams of Eighteen Sixty-OneCommingled with his slumbers.But Peter, from the farm-house door,Gazed doubtfully around,Rejoiced to find himself once moreOn sure and solid ground.The sky was somewhat dark ahead,Wind east, and morning lowery;And on he pushed, a two-miles’ tread,To breakfast at his Bouwery.

Where nowadays the Battery lies,New York had just begun,A new-born babe, to rub its eyes,In Sixteen Sixty-One.They christened it Nieuw Amsterdam,Those burghers grave and stately,And so, with schnapps and smoke and psalm,Lived out their lives sedately.Two windmills topped their wooden wall,On Stadthuys gazing down,On fort, and cabbage-plots, and allThe quaintly gabled town;These flapped their wings and shifted backs,As ancient scrolls determine,To scare the savage Hackensacks,Paumanks, and other vermin.At night the loyal settlers layBetwixt their feather-beds;In hose and breeches walked by day,And smoked, and wagged their heads.No changeful fashions came from France,The vrouwleins to bewilder;No broad-brimmed burgher spent for pantsHis every other guilder.In petticoats of linsey-red,And jackets neatly kept,The vrouws their knitting-needles spedAnd deftly spun and swept.Few modern-school flirtations thereSet wheels of scandal trundling,But youths and maidens did their shareOf staid, old-fashioned bundling.—The New Year opened clear and cold;The snow, a Flemish ellIn depth, lay over Beeckman’s WoldAnd Wolfert’s frozen well.Each burgher shook his kitchen-doors,Drew on his Holland leather,Then stamped through drifts to do the chores,Beshrewing all such weather.But—after herring, ham, and kraut—To all the gathered townThe Dominie preached the morning out,In Calvanistic gown;While tough old Peter StuyvesantSat pewed in foremost station,—The potent, sage, and valiantThird Governor of the nation.Prayer over, at his mansion hall,With cake and courtly smileHe met the people, one and all,In gubernatorial style;Yet missed, though now the day was old,An ancient fellow-feaster,—Heer Govert Loockermans, that boldBrewer and burgomeester;Who, in his farm-house, close withoutThe picket’s eastern end,Sat growling at the twinge of goutThat kept him from his friend.But Peter strapped his wooden peg,When tea and cake were ended(Meanwhile the sound remaining legIts high jack-boot defended),A woolsey cloak about him threw,And swore, by wind and limb,Since Govert kept from Peter’s view,Peter would visit him;Then sallied forth, through snow and blast,While many a humble greeterStood wondering whereaway so fastStrode bluff Hardkoppig Pieter.Past quay and cowpath, through a laneOf vats and mounded tans,He puffed along, with might and main,To Govert Loockermans;Once there, his right of entry took,And hailed his ancient crony:“Myn Gott! in dese Manhattoes, Loock,Ve gets more snow as money!”To which, till after whiffs profound,The other answered not;At last there came responsive sound:“Yah, Peter; yah, Myn Gott!”Then goedevrouw Marie sat her guestBeneath the chimney-gable,And courtesied, bustling at her bestTo spread the New Year’s table.She brought the pure and genial schnapps,That years before had come—In the “Nieuw Nederlandts,” perhaps—To cheer the settlers’ home;The long-stemmed pipes; the fragrant rollOf pressed and crispy Spanish;Then placed the earthen mugs and bowl,Nor long delayed to vanish.Thereat, with cheery nod and wink,And honors of the day,The trader mixed the Governor’s drinkAs evening sped away.That ancient room! I see it now:The carven nutwood dresser;The drawers, that many a burgher’s vrouwBegrudged their rich possessor;The brace of high-backed leathern chairs,Brass-nailed at every seam;Six others, ranged in equal pairs;The bacon hung abeam;The chimney-front, with porcelain shelft;The hearty wooden fire;The picture, on the steaming delft,Of David and Goliah.I see the two old Dutchmen sitLike Magog and his mate,And hear them, when their pipes are lit,Discuss affairs of state:The clique that would their sway demean;The pestilent importationOf wooden nutmegs, from the leanAnd losel Yankee nation.But when the subtle juniperAssumed its sure command,They drank the buxom loves that were,—They drank the Motherland;They drank the famous Swedish wars,Stout Peter’s special glory,While Govert proudly showed the scarsOf Indian contests gory.Erelong, the berry’s power awokeSome music in their brains,And, trumpet-like, through rolling smoke,Rang long-forgotten strains,—Old Flemish snatches, full of blood,Of phantom ships and battle;And Peter, with his leg of wood,Made floor and casement rattle.Then round and round the dresser pranced,The chairs began to wheel,And on the board the punch-bowl dancedA Netherlandish reel;Till midnight o’er the farm-house spreadHer New-Year’s skirts of sable,And, inch by inch, each puzzled headDropt down upon the table.But still to Peter, as he dreamed,That table spread and turned;The chimney-log blazed high, and seemedTo circle as it burned;The town into the vision grewFrom ending to beginning;Fort, wall, and windmill met his view,All widening and spinning.The cowpaths, leading to the docks,Grew broader, whirling past,And checkered into shining blocks,—A city fair and vast;Stores, churches, mansions, overspreadThe metamorphosed island,While not a beaver showed his headFrom Swamp to Kalchook highland.Eftsoons the picture passed away;Hours after, Peter wokeTo see a spectral streak of dayGleam in through fading smoke;Still slept old Govert, snoring onIn most melodious numbers;No dreams of Eighteen Sixty-OneCommingled with his slumbers.But Peter, from the farm-house door,Gazed doubtfully around,Rejoiced to find himself once moreOn sure and solid ground.The sky was somewhat dark ahead,Wind east, and morning lowery;And on he pushed, a two-miles’ tread,To breakfast at his Bouwery.

Where nowadays the Battery lies,New York had just begun,A new-born babe, to rub its eyes,In Sixteen Sixty-One.They christened it Nieuw Amsterdam,Those burghers grave and stately,And so, with schnapps and smoke and psalm,Lived out their lives sedately.

Where nowadays the Battery lies,

New York had just begun,

A new-born babe, to rub its eyes,

In Sixteen Sixty-One.

They christened it Nieuw Amsterdam,

Those burghers grave and stately,

And so, with schnapps and smoke and psalm,

Lived out their lives sedately.

Two windmills topped their wooden wall,On Stadthuys gazing down,On fort, and cabbage-plots, and allThe quaintly gabled town;These flapped their wings and shifted backs,As ancient scrolls determine,To scare the savage Hackensacks,Paumanks, and other vermin.

Two windmills topped their wooden wall,

On Stadthuys gazing down,

On fort, and cabbage-plots, and all

The quaintly gabled town;

These flapped their wings and shifted backs,

As ancient scrolls determine,

To scare the savage Hackensacks,

Paumanks, and other vermin.

At night the loyal settlers layBetwixt their feather-beds;In hose and breeches walked by day,And smoked, and wagged their heads.No changeful fashions came from France,The vrouwleins to bewilder;No broad-brimmed burgher spent for pantsHis every other guilder.

At night the loyal settlers lay

Betwixt their feather-beds;

In hose and breeches walked by day,

And smoked, and wagged their heads.

No changeful fashions came from France,

The vrouwleins to bewilder;

No broad-brimmed burgher spent for pants

His every other guilder.

In petticoats of linsey-red,And jackets neatly kept,The vrouws their knitting-needles spedAnd deftly spun and swept.Few modern-school flirtations thereSet wheels of scandal trundling,But youths and maidens did their shareOf staid, old-fashioned bundling.

In petticoats of linsey-red,

And jackets neatly kept,

The vrouws their knitting-needles sped

And deftly spun and swept.

Few modern-school flirtations there

Set wheels of scandal trundling,

But youths and maidens did their share

Of staid, old-fashioned bundling.

—The New Year opened clear and cold;The snow, a Flemish ellIn depth, lay over Beeckman’s WoldAnd Wolfert’s frozen well.Each burgher shook his kitchen-doors,Drew on his Holland leather,Then stamped through drifts to do the chores,Beshrewing all such weather.

—The New Year opened clear and cold;

The snow, a Flemish ell

In depth, lay over Beeckman’s Wold

And Wolfert’s frozen well.

Each burgher shook his kitchen-doors,

Drew on his Holland leather,

Then stamped through drifts to do the chores,

Beshrewing all such weather.

But—after herring, ham, and kraut—To all the gathered townThe Dominie preached the morning out,In Calvanistic gown;While tough old Peter StuyvesantSat pewed in foremost station,—The potent, sage, and valiantThird Governor of the nation.

But—after herring, ham, and kraut—

To all the gathered town

The Dominie preached the morning out,

In Calvanistic gown;

While tough old Peter Stuyvesant

Sat pewed in foremost station,—

The potent, sage, and valiant

Third Governor of the nation.

Prayer over, at his mansion hall,With cake and courtly smileHe met the people, one and all,In gubernatorial style;Yet missed, though now the day was old,An ancient fellow-feaster,—Heer Govert Loockermans, that boldBrewer and burgomeester;

Prayer over, at his mansion hall,

With cake and courtly smile

He met the people, one and all,

In gubernatorial style;

Yet missed, though now the day was old,

An ancient fellow-feaster,—

Heer Govert Loockermans, that bold

Brewer and burgomeester;

Who, in his farm-house, close withoutThe picket’s eastern end,Sat growling at the twinge of goutThat kept him from his friend.But Peter strapped his wooden peg,When tea and cake were ended(Meanwhile the sound remaining legIts high jack-boot defended),

Who, in his farm-house, close without

The picket’s eastern end,

Sat growling at the twinge of gout

That kept him from his friend.

But Peter strapped his wooden peg,

When tea and cake were ended

(Meanwhile the sound remaining leg

Its high jack-boot defended),

A woolsey cloak about him threw,And swore, by wind and limb,Since Govert kept from Peter’s view,Peter would visit him;Then sallied forth, through snow and blast,While many a humble greeterStood wondering whereaway so fastStrode bluff Hardkoppig Pieter.

A woolsey cloak about him threw,

And swore, by wind and limb,

Since Govert kept from Peter’s view,

Peter would visit him;

Then sallied forth, through snow and blast,

While many a humble greeter

Stood wondering whereaway so fast

Strode bluff Hardkoppig Pieter.

Past quay and cowpath, through a laneOf vats and mounded tans,He puffed along, with might and main,To Govert Loockermans;Once there, his right of entry took,And hailed his ancient crony:“Myn Gott! in dese Manhattoes, Loock,Ve gets more snow as money!”

Past quay and cowpath, through a lane

Of vats and mounded tans,

He puffed along, with might and main,

To Govert Loockermans;

Once there, his right of entry took,

And hailed his ancient crony:

“Myn Gott! in dese Manhattoes, Loock,

Ve gets more snow as money!”

To which, till after whiffs profound,The other answered not;At last there came responsive sound:“Yah, Peter; yah, Myn Gott!”Then goedevrouw Marie sat her guestBeneath the chimney-gable,And courtesied, bustling at her bestTo spread the New Year’s table.

To which, till after whiffs profound,

The other answered not;

At last there came responsive sound:

“Yah, Peter; yah, Myn Gott!”

Then goedevrouw Marie sat her guest

Beneath the chimney-gable,

And courtesied, bustling at her best

To spread the New Year’s table.

She brought the pure and genial schnapps,That years before had come—In the “Nieuw Nederlandts,” perhaps—To cheer the settlers’ home;The long-stemmed pipes; the fragrant rollOf pressed and crispy Spanish;Then placed the earthen mugs and bowl,Nor long delayed to vanish.

She brought the pure and genial schnapps,

That years before had come—

In the “Nieuw Nederlandts,” perhaps—

To cheer the settlers’ home;

The long-stemmed pipes; the fragrant roll

Of pressed and crispy Spanish;

Then placed the earthen mugs and bowl,

Nor long delayed to vanish.

Thereat, with cheery nod and wink,And honors of the day,The trader mixed the Governor’s drinkAs evening sped away.That ancient room! I see it now:The carven nutwood dresser;The drawers, that many a burgher’s vrouwBegrudged their rich possessor;

Thereat, with cheery nod and wink,

And honors of the day,

The trader mixed the Governor’s drink

As evening sped away.

That ancient room! I see it now:

The carven nutwood dresser;

The drawers, that many a burgher’s vrouw

Begrudged their rich possessor;

The brace of high-backed leathern chairs,Brass-nailed at every seam;Six others, ranged in equal pairs;The bacon hung abeam;The chimney-front, with porcelain shelft;The hearty wooden fire;The picture, on the steaming delft,Of David and Goliah.

The brace of high-backed leathern chairs,

Brass-nailed at every seam;

Six others, ranged in equal pairs;

The bacon hung abeam;

The chimney-front, with porcelain shelft;

The hearty wooden fire;

The picture, on the steaming delft,

Of David and Goliah.

I see the two old Dutchmen sitLike Magog and his mate,And hear them, when their pipes are lit,Discuss affairs of state:The clique that would their sway demean;The pestilent importationOf wooden nutmegs, from the leanAnd losel Yankee nation.

I see the two old Dutchmen sit

Like Magog and his mate,

And hear them, when their pipes are lit,

Discuss affairs of state:

The clique that would their sway demean;

The pestilent importation

Of wooden nutmegs, from the lean

And losel Yankee nation.

But when the subtle juniperAssumed its sure command,They drank the buxom loves that were,—They drank the Motherland;They drank the famous Swedish wars,Stout Peter’s special glory,While Govert proudly showed the scarsOf Indian contests gory.

But when the subtle juniper

Assumed its sure command,

They drank the buxom loves that were,—

They drank the Motherland;

They drank the famous Swedish wars,

Stout Peter’s special glory,

While Govert proudly showed the scars

Of Indian contests gory.

Erelong, the berry’s power awokeSome music in their brains,And, trumpet-like, through rolling smoke,Rang long-forgotten strains,—Old Flemish snatches, full of blood,Of phantom ships and battle;And Peter, with his leg of wood,Made floor and casement rattle.

Erelong, the berry’s power awoke

Some music in their brains,

And, trumpet-like, through rolling smoke,

Rang long-forgotten strains,—

Old Flemish snatches, full of blood,

Of phantom ships and battle;

And Peter, with his leg of wood,

Made floor and casement rattle.

Then round and round the dresser pranced,The chairs began to wheel,And on the board the punch-bowl dancedA Netherlandish reel;Till midnight o’er the farm-house spreadHer New-Year’s skirts of sable,And, inch by inch, each puzzled headDropt down upon the table.

Then round and round the dresser pranced,

The chairs began to wheel,

And on the board the punch-bowl danced

A Netherlandish reel;

Till midnight o’er the farm-house spread

Her New-Year’s skirts of sable,

And, inch by inch, each puzzled head

Dropt down upon the table.

But still to Peter, as he dreamed,That table spread and turned;The chimney-log blazed high, and seemedTo circle as it burned;The town into the vision grewFrom ending to beginning;Fort, wall, and windmill met his view,All widening and spinning.

But still to Peter, as he dreamed,

That table spread and turned;

The chimney-log blazed high, and seemed

To circle as it burned;

The town into the vision grew

From ending to beginning;

Fort, wall, and windmill met his view,

All widening and spinning.

The cowpaths, leading to the docks,Grew broader, whirling past,And checkered into shining blocks,—A city fair and vast;Stores, churches, mansions, overspreadThe metamorphosed island,While not a beaver showed his headFrom Swamp to Kalchook highland.

The cowpaths, leading to the docks,

Grew broader, whirling past,

And checkered into shining blocks,—

A city fair and vast;

Stores, churches, mansions, overspread

The metamorphosed island,

While not a beaver showed his head

From Swamp to Kalchook highland.

Eftsoons the picture passed away;Hours after, Peter wokeTo see a spectral streak of dayGleam in through fading smoke;Still slept old Govert, snoring onIn most melodious numbers;No dreams of Eighteen Sixty-OneCommingled with his slumbers.

Eftsoons the picture passed away;

Hours after, Peter woke

To see a spectral streak of day

Gleam in through fading smoke;

Still slept old Govert, snoring on

In most melodious numbers;

No dreams of Eighteen Sixty-One

Commingled with his slumbers.

But Peter, from the farm-house door,Gazed doubtfully around,Rejoiced to find himself once moreOn sure and solid ground.The sky was somewhat dark ahead,Wind east, and morning lowery;And on he pushed, a two-miles’ tread,To breakfast at his Bouwery.

But Peter, from the farm-house door,

Gazed doubtfully around,

Rejoiced to find himself once more

On sure and solid ground.

The sky was somewhat dark ahead,

Wind east, and morning lowery;

And on he pushed, a two-miles’ tread,

To breakfast at his Bouwery.


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