Poems (Merrill)/The Cottage by the River

by Clara A. Merrill

THE COTTAGE BY THE RIVER

(Lines on a very old house situated on the west shore of the Nezinscot river, and some distance from any other dwelling.)

On the bank of Old Nezinscot,  Where the sparkling waters flow Down this sea-ward course, as freely As the roving winds that blow. Stands a cottage by the river— (Built upon the side-hill plan;—Think it was a blacksmith built it  Else it was a crazy man!

Must have been an awful ship wreck  Once, upon Nezinscot's waves; When a score or more of sailors  Went down to their watery graves—All except old Robinson Crusoe,  Guess he landed on a scow; And this fact seems most emphatic  For man "Friday" lives there now!

Probably, from out the wreckage  They contrived to save their goods,—Then, with jack-knife and a hatchet  Built this cottage in the woods— Must have been some ship-wreck'd sailor  By the angry tempest tossed—Or an aeronaut that landed  Who with his balloon was lost.

Doubtless, then, this lonely exile  Fought the wild-cat and the bear—Else he'd not have pitched his cabin  Forty miles from any where—Far away from habitation— Neither do we often find Houses that are built like this one  With the front door on behind!)

Though in this salubrious climate  Often lurks the river fogs;—Yet the sweet, halcyon chorus  Of the whip-poor-wills and frogs When the twilight shadows gather  And the sun sinks in the west—Calms and sooths the fever'd pillow,  Lulls the weary into rest.

Then all hail—all hail to Crusoe  (Or what ever was his name) Who discovered this fair haven,  And in reverence well proclaim That to him who built this cottage  We should ever give our thanks For the hours we've spent in pleasure  On Nezinscot's mossy banks!