;
Spite of all speculators
And ancient-landmark traitors,
Who, all along this shore,
Are ever substitutin'
The modern, highfalutin',
For the plain names of yore.

"Down there, on old Manhattan,
Where land-sharks breed and fatten,
They've wiped out Tubby Hook.
That famous promontory,
Renowned in song and story,
Which time nor tempest shook,
Whose name for aye had been good,
Stands newly christened 'Inwood,'
And branded with the shame
Of some old rogue who passes
By dint of aliases,
Afraid of his own name!

"See how they quite outrival,
Plain barnyard Spuytenduyvil,
By peacock Riverdale,
Which thinks all else it conquers,
And over homespun Yonkers
Spreads out its flaunting tail!
There's new-named Mount St. Vincent,
Where each dear little inn'cent
Is taught the Popish rites,--
Well, ain't it queer, wherever
These saints possess the river
They get the finest sites!

"They've named a place for Irving,
A trifle more deserving
Than your French, foreign saints,
But if he has such mention,
It's past my comprehension
Why Dobbs should cause complaints;
Wrote histories and such things,
About Old Knick and Dutch things,
Dolph Heyligers and Rips;
But no old antiquary
Like him could keep a ferry,
With all his authorships!

"By aid of these same showmen,
Some fanciful cognomen
Old Cro'nest stock might bring
As high as Butter Hill is,
Which, patronized by Willis,
Leaves cards now as 'Storm-King!'
Can't some poetic swell-beau
Re-christen old Crum Elbow
And each prosaic bluff,
Bold Breakneck gently flatter,
And Dunderberg bespatter,
With euphony and stuff!

"'T would be a _magnum opus_
To bury old Esopus
In Time's sepulchral vaults,
Or in Oblivion's deep sea
Submerge renowned Poughkeepsie,
And also ancient Paltz;
How it would give them rapture
Brave Stony Point to capture,
And make it face about;
Bid Rhinebeck sound much smoother
Than in the tongue of Luther,
And wipe the Catskills out!

"Well, DOBBS is DOBBS, and faster
Than pitch or mustard-plaster
Shall it stick hereabouts,
While Tappan Sea rolls yonder,
Or round High Torn the thunder
Along these ramparts shouts.
No corner-lot banditti,
Or brokers from the City--
Like you--" Here Dobbs began
Wildly both oars to brandish,
As fierce as old Mile