lack its ancient grace,
New days may dawn, like those of royal BESS,
And every stream a Stratford shall possess;
Where, though in marshes resonant with frogs,
And rudely housed in temples built of logs,
The nymph, regenerate in her classic robe,
May see revived the 'Fortune' and the 'Globe.'

Such was the dream your fancy dared to mould
Of what yourself had witnessed here of old;
When with your twins--your FANNY and your fame--
Among our cousins of the west you came;
But you mistook a momentary fashion
For a deep-seated and enduring passion:
Now to your own a friend's experience add,
And judge what grounds your glorious vision had.
Beyond that Cape which mortals christen Cod,
Where drifted sand-heaps choke the scanty sod,
Round the rough shore a crooked city clings,
Sworn foe to queens, it seems, as well as kings.
On three steep hills it soars, as Rome on seven,
To claim a near relationship with heaven.
Fit home for saints! the very name it bears
A kind of sacred origin declares;
Ta'en, as I find by hunting records o'er,
From one BOTOLFO, canonized of yore,[5]
Whom bards have left nor epitaph nor verse on,
Though in his day, sans doubt, a decent person:
This town, in olden times of stake and flame,
A famous nest of Puritans became;
Sad, rigid souls, who hated as they ought
The carnal arms wherewith the Devil fought;
Dancing and dicing, music, and whate'er
Spreads for humanity the hell-born snare.
Stage-plays especially their hearts abhorred,
Holding the Muses hateful to the Lord,
Save when old STERNHOLD and his brother bard
Oped their hoarse throats and strained an anthem hard.

[5] The name of Boston, in Lincolnshire, is said to be derived
from ST. BOTOLPH--quasi BOTOLPH'S town.

From that angelic race of perfect men,
(Sure seraphs never trod the world 'till then,)
Descends the race to whom the sway is given
Of the world's morals by confiding Heaven.
These of each virtue know the market price,
And shrewdly count the cost of every vice;
So, to their prudent adage faithful still,
Are honest more from policy than will.
As if with heaven a bargain they had made
To practise goodness and to be well paid.
They too, devoutly as their fathers did,
Sin, sack, and sugar equally forbid;
Holding each hour unpardonably spent
Which on the ledger leaves no monument;
While oft they read, with small but p