4534898Poems — The Cottage by the RiverClara 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!
