The First Excursion.
There a steep bank descendeth to the shore,
On which the strawberry grows in pride of fruit,
Giving its hue from fullest plenitude,
Tickling the palate, minus sweet or cream.
And "Strawberry Bank" is named that precinct fair,
So called long after, when another Priug,
Of other name,* came sailing up the stream.
Preceding others come to stay, whose plant
Acquired a hold that, magnified, to day
Is all Neio Hampshire, grand in name and state !
Then on moved Pring. The majesty of God,
In solemn silence, all the scene invest,
Save where the rushing waters gave their voice,
Or the winds sighing through the wakened pines
That cast their shadows on the passing tide.
Fleet water-fowl, on half-suspicious wing.
Flitted above the circumambient wave.
Casting a glance on the invading barge,
Instinctive of a peril undefined.
A pristine grandeur on the stream and shore
Bore stateliness and grace in every line,
And stillness, undisturbed, in brooding hush.
Seemed as if primal Nature, scarce awake.
Were gazing sleepily upon the scene.
And wondering vaguely what the intrusion meant.
Bright islands, shady bays, and inland creeks
Tempted the rowers with a rapturous show
Of beauties manifold, while there anon,
'Neath arches of the trees, fair vistas oped.
Hung plenteously with vine and summer flower.
And more than sylvan loveliness and grace
Did the explorers find, reward for toil,
In that tongue-tingling root of earnest quest,
O'er which the world ran mad, sufficient deemed
For healinof of the nations in their need.
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��Here bluffs abrupt hung o'er the gliding stream ; The "Pulpit," singular and ponderous pile. Reared its wild front ; while there, away beyond, The angry "Boiling Rock" upraised its voice, As if remonstrant 'gainst the stranger keel That dared its special guardianship invade.
- John Smith, 1614.
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