MONTAUK POINT.
It was a summer's day, when old Montauk
First gleamed upon us. Many a mile we drove
Over a treeless region, hill and dale
Wrapped in a short, green sward.
There, grazed at will,
Herds of young cattle, by no fence restrained,
And limitless in their equality,
As a Laconian brotherhood. Quite lean
They were, and agile, and with goat-like nerve
Could scour o'er paths precipitous—yet each
Bent on our vehicles a curious eye,
Pausing and pondering, as if much inclined
Our destination and our names to learn.
'T was strange in such wild solitudes to be
So questioned by those quadrupeds. Perchance,
Some Yankee pedigree they might have held,
In old time far away; for all, methought,
Thirsted to ask our birth-place, and degree,
Date, history, kindred, gains, and hopes, and fears,
And prospects and pursuits.
Right scanty fare
