| |
| WHERE now the bells of Trinity are heard, | |
| Once in the willows sang a hidden bird, | |
| Where sits Columbia upon the height, | |
| A stag pressed ferny hollows all the night. | |
| Where now the Tombs disturbs the dark with sighs, | 5 |
| A lilied pond looked up to happy skies. | |
| Where now behind a Doric colonnade | |
| The busy pens compute the nation’s trade, | |
| There on the rippling river’s reedy edge | |
| A beaver built his lodge along the ledge: | 10 |
| And down Broadway, where now the millions pass, | |
| Once ran a crest of flowers in seas of grass. | |
| Manhattan, like a kneeling camel, lay, | |
| Humped with her ridges, looking toward the Bay, | |
| A hundred springs, a hundred hasty rills | 15 |
| Ran silverly among the little hills. | |
| The world was hushed; September’s windy gold | |
| Was edging all the boughs with beauty old; | |
| And far-blown shreds of smoke | |
| Went bluely winding over the woods of oak, | 20 |
| Or lifted whirls that lived their little span | |
| Above the wigwams of Sapponikan. | |
| |
| A dusky hunter lurking on a ledge | |
| Looked to the south, out to the ocean’s edge | |
| And suddenly a sea-thing with white wings | 25 |
| Came like a moth the wind of evening brings. | |
| What could the wonder be? | |
| What shape of earth, what spirit of the sea? | |
| A look, a cry, a leap, | |
| And he went plunging down the rocky steep, | 30 |
| Flaring through tangled vines a sudden trail, | |
| Crushing wild mints to scent the tender gale— | |
| Down the long ridges ran, | |
| Bearing the tidings to Sapponikan. | |
| |
| A great white weary ship came drifting in. | 35 |
| Upon her stern a painted moon she bore, | |
| Upon her poop the starry heaven she wore; | |
| While strange, grave men with beards upon the chin | |
| Looked out with wondering eyes and alien speech, | |
| Hailing the plumèd men upon the beach, | 40 |
| Down plunged an anchor, then with loud acclaim | |
| Up went the flag of Holland like a flame! | |
| |
