Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BOWLING GREEN, by ARTHUR GUITERMAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BOWLING GREEN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A pleasant breadth of open space
Last Line: The city's heart is bowling green.
Subject(s): Bowling Green, New York City; Cities; New York City - Colonial Period; Peace; Urban Life


A PLEASANT breadth of open space
In wastes of stone, a breathing-place
For dusty toil, though ages roll
Unchanged it spreads a verdant scroll
Whereon is writ, for knowing eyes,
The legend of a city's rise.
Rule prince or people, king or queen,
Still Bowling Green is Bowling Green.

For here, before the Dutchman came,
The Red Man lit his council-flame
To plan the hunt or ambuscade;
And here his dark-eyed children played.
Where now De Peyster's image stands
The simple sachems gave their lands
For trinkets -- easy victims fit
For such as crafty Minuit.

Next rose Kryn Frederyck's bastioned fort.
Before the northward sally-port
The soldiers drilled -- a gallant breed
Of men that held the Yankee, Swede,
And Weckquaesgeek in high disdain.
Upon this level, then "The Plaine,"
Van Twiller broached the foaming keg,
Stout Peter stumped on timber leg.

Here drovers sold the flock's increase;
The sullen savage sued for peace;
The young folk came, with dances gay
And garlands, bringing in the May,
While elders nodded, sage and bland,
And lovers rambled hand in hand --
Till English guns in churlish rage
Knelled out our city's Golden Age.

Then, richly turfed and weeded clean,
The gentry laid the level green,
Alluring sport-delighting souls
To cast the jack and hurl the bowls.
And here, as loyal hearts decreed,
King George bestrode a leaden steed,
Till hot rebellion spurned the Crown
And horse and king went crashing down.

Thrice welcome, Peace! The British drum
Hath beat retreat; and see! they come!
With heads erect and muskets true
The tattered troops in buff and blue --
The men that crossed the Delaware
And trapped the Hessian in his lair --
The men of York, of Monmouth plain,
Who marched with Greene, who charged with Wayne,

Who fought the war of seven years,
Who whipped the Redcoat Grenadiers --
With swinging stride come marching in,
And all the air is wild with din;
While, strong of limb and stout of soul,
Van Arsdale climbs the well-greased pole
And wrenches down the crimson rag
And sets on high the starry flag!

This bit of turf that woos the sun
The stately step of Washington
Hath pressed; and Fulton knew it well;
And Irving loved its hallowed spell.
It knows the visions, strifes, and tears
And joys of thrice a hundred years.
Unchanged amid a changing scene,
The city's heart is Bowling Green.





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