Page:New England Fallen.pdf/2

When, long ago, America was young,
And held by yeomen from Britannia sprung,
New-England was with hardy rustics fill’d,
Green were her fields, and diligently till’d.
My grandsire John, beside a rocky hill,
’Mid pastures water’d by a sparkling rill,
Erected firm his unpretentious cot;
Sunk deep his well, laid out his garden-plot;
Built sheds for poultry, hives for honey-bees;
Barns for his cattle; clear’d the land of trees.
The meadows wide with walls he fenc’d around,
From dawn to darkness reach’d his daily toil;
Each spring with seed he sow’d the fertile soil:
And in the heat of each midsummer day,
With sharpen’d scythe he mow’d the leaning hay,
’Neath harvest moon he reap’d the rip’ning crop,
In winter’s blast his axe was heard to chop
The wind-sway’d oaks and maples of the wood
That on his hillside slopes majestic stood.
In grassy pastures, teeming with rich loam,
His brawny kine were wont to feed and roam;
Thus did he live, and call’d his humble acres “Home”.

The wooden farm-house, painted snowy white,
Had in it more of broadness than of height.
A sloping roof its safe protection lent;
In vain the storms outside their fury spent.
Above the roof, the stone-built chimney tower’d,
Through which the smoke in inky torrents pour’d.
Around the door, the clinging ivy twin’d;
The sunny garden brilliant flow’rs confin’d.
The rooms within were scrubb’d until they shone
By the good wife of honest Farmer John.
Beside the fire at night the rustic sat,
And listen’d to the singing of his cat,
Or read the Scriptures to his wife and son,
Or through the window watch’d the rising moon.
His child by maxims wise and good was rear’d.
Virtue he lov’d, Immortal God he fear’d.
The vice and folly of the world he spurn’d,
But at the district-school true wisdom learn’d
From his kind master, who with precepts sage
Refin’d and shap’d the growth of tender age.
With no low trade his pliant mind was fill’d,
Nor was his wit by friv’lous notions kill’d.
Few were his studies, but with zeal pursu’d;
With solid learning was the youth imbu’d.
His hours of leisure were discreetly spent;
In harmless joys and sports he liv’d content.