OUR NEIGHBOR.
Old neighbor, for how many a yearThe same horizon, stretching here,Has held us in its happy boundFrom Rivermouth to Ipswich Sound!How many a wave-washed day we've seenAbove that low horizon lean,And marked within the MerrimackThe self-same sunset reddening back,Or in the Powow's shining stream,That silent river of a dream!
Where Craneneck o'er the woody gloomLifts her steep mile of apple-bloom;Where Salisbury Sands, in yellow length,With the great breaker measures strength;Where Artichoke in shadow slides,The lily on her painted tides,—There 's naught in the enchanted viewThat does not seem a part of you;
