Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DUTCH PATROL, by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: When christmas-eve is ended Last Line: Proclaim 'tis christmas day. Subject(s): Christmas; Holidays; Memorial Day; Netherlands; New York City - Dutch Period; U.s. - Dutch Settlements; Nativity, The; Declaration Day; Holland; Dutch People | ||||||||
When Christmas-Eve is ended, Just at the noon of night, Rare things are seen by mortal een That have the second sight. In St. Mark's church-yard then They see the shape arise Of him who ruled Nieuw Amsterdam And here in slumber lies. His face, beneath the close black cap, Has a martial look and grim; On either side his locks fall wide To the broad collar's rim; His sleeves are slashed; the velvet coat Is fashioned Hollandese Above his fustian breeches, trimmed With scarf-knots at the knees. His leg of flesh is hosed in silk; His wooden leg is bound, As well befits a conqueror's, With silver bands around. He reads the lines that mark His tablet on the wall, Where boldly PETRUS STUYVESANT Stands out beyond them all. "'Tis well!" he says, and sternly smiles, "They hold our memory dear; Nor rust nor moss hath crept across; 'Twill last this many a year." Then down the path he strides, And through the iron gate, Where the sage Nine Men, his councillors, Their Governor await. Here are Van der Donck and Van Cortlandt, A triplet more of Vans, And Hendrick Kip of the haughty lip, And Govert Loockermans. Jan Jansen Dam, and Jansen, Of whom our annals tell, All risen this night their lord to greet At sound of the Christmas bell. Nine lusty forms in linsey coats, Puffed sleeves and ample hose! Each burgher smokes a Flemish pipe To warm his ancient nose; The smoke-wreaths rise like mist, The smokers all are mute, Yet all, with pipes thrice waving slow, Brave Stuyvesant salute. Then into ranks they fall, And step out three by three, And he of the wooden leg and staff In front walks solemnly. Along their wonted course The phantom troop patrol, To see how fares Nieuw Amsterdam, And what the years unroll. Street after street and mile on mile, From river bound to bound, From old St. Mark's to Whitehall Point, They foot the limits round; From Maiden Lane to Corlaer's Hook The Dutchmen's pipjen glow, But never a word from their lips is heard, And none their passing know. Ere the first streak of dawn St. Mark's again they near, And by a vault the Nine Men halt, Their Governor's voice to hear. "Mynheeren," he says, "ye see Each year our borders spread! Lo, one by one, the landmarks gone, And marvels come instead. "Not even a windmill left, Nor a garden-plot we knew, And but a paling marks the spot Where erst my pear-tree grew. Our walks are wearier still, Perchance and it were best, So little of worth is left on earth, To break no more our rest?" Thus speaks old Petrus doubtfully And shakes his valiant head, Whenon the roofs a sound of hoofs, A rattling, pattering tread! The bells of reindeer tinkle, The Dutchmen plainly spy St. Nicholas, who drives his team Across the roof-tops nigh. "Beshrew me for a craven!" Cries Petrus"All goes well! Our patron saint still makes his round At sound of the Christmas bell. So long as stanch St. Nicholas Shall guard these houses tall, There shall come no harm from hostile arm No evil chance befall! "The yongens and the meisjes Shall have their hosen filled; The butcher and the baker, And every honest guild, Shall merrily thrive and flourish; Good-night, and be of cheer; We may safely lay us down again To sleep another year!" Once more the pipes are waved, Stout Petrus gives the sign, The misty smoke enfolds them round, Him and his burghers nine. All, when the cloud has lifted, Have vanished quite away. And the crowing cock and steeple clock Proclaim 'tis Christmas Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREETS OF PEARL AND GOLD by CAROLYN KIZER WHERE I'VE BEEN ALL MY LIFE by CAROLYN KIZER THE LEAK IN THE DIKE; A STORY OF HOLLAND by PHOEBE CARY THE NETHERLANDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE CHARACTER OF HOLLAND by ANDREW MARVELL THE TRUCE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A DREAM by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A GHOST STORY by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON A MOTHER'S PICTURE by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN |
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