Norwalk After Two Hundred & Fifty Years

And so throughout the ancient bounds, From Wilton's sunny hills. To the harbor where the restless tide Its chalice drains and fills; From Five Mile River and Darien To Saugatuck's verdant shore, From the heights that fair New Canaan homes With beauty mantle o'er, To Weston's sturdy, rock-bound ridge, One prevalent taste we see, The favorite study of every man Is Ancient History! One title, "Looking Backward," seems All wisdom to enshrine. While not a song so moves the heart As simple "Auld Lang Syne!" The twentieth century fades from view, The seventeenth is ours, The withered stock bursts into leaf And yields us sweetest flowers! O not in vain the D. A. R., (With never a final N.) And not in vain the S. A. R., Those brave, heroic men, "Founders and Patriots," "Foreign Wars," "Colonial Wars," and "Dames," And all the rest that trace their line 147 Through great historic names, Have waited for the charming time That bids the past arise, And all its characters and scenes Salute our wondering eyes! Perchance indeed it was their spell That waked the long ago, That we the fullness of its grace And worthiness might know; Perchance it was their trumpet call That bade the dead revive And walk and worship in our view, And toil and love and strive! With eager hearts we greet the past And yield it reverence due, And bid it make our lives sublime, Unselfish, broad and true! We've garlands for the pioneers Who wrestled here with fate, And in the midst of perils laid The bases of the State! We've garlands for the patriot band Who the invader met, And who through fire and blood their face Toward independence set! We've garlands for the mothers brave Who shared the cruel strain, And deemed it highest joy their sons For worthiest life to train! 0 fathers, mothers, royal race, Across the gulf of years We bless you for your noble work Unstayed by pain or fears! Live, live before us while these days Are gliding sweetly by, Reveal the grandeur of the soul Whose influence cannot die! One sunny day, with hook and line, I sought the wave-washed strand, Where as a boy I eager bore The bivalves to the land! 1 sat me down upon a point That jutted to the sea, And waited for the fish so kind As to be game for me! 148 The skies were bright, the waters clear, Their ripples soothed my soul, I looked across the shining waves And marked their rhythmic roll! I thought upon these festal days, Then not so far away, And wondered, could the dead return, What they would think and say! When of a sudden I perceived That I was not alone, For, near at hand, there silent sat A man to me unknown. His dress in part seemed like the garb Of those who ride the wheel, And yet a strangeness marked his style Whose force I could but feel! His shortened coat of silken gray Was slashed on either side, While o'er the sleeves, like roof of porch, Hung a projection wide! His collar was as white and broad As that of modern dude, And yet so laid about his neck As nowise to intrude. A cord and tassel held it fast And neatly fell below; His shoes with buckles firmly bound Did each a jewel show. His hat ascended toward a peak, His face seemed sad and grim; I marveled at his looks the more, The more I gazed at him. At length I said, in courteous tone, "I harvest from the sea; I seek a little of its wealth"; He said, "So mote it be! "From this same point," said he. "I've fished, And gathered many a score; But," with a sigh he added soon, "I'll do it nevermore!" "Why not?" I asked, "bring on your line, The sea is all alive; These swarms that throng the shining depths We surely ought to hive! Calf Pasture is a goodly place For this delightful sport; 149 Come, bring your tackle, and you'll bear A cargo into port!" "Two hundred years ago, and more," Said he, "with ample luck My hook into the briny deep With diligence I struck' Good Izaak Walton, then alive, Taught me the noble art, And sentiments of love and truth He also did impart. I wonder if his book is read In this degenerate age, The marks of genius it reveals On every gleaming page." I started as he spoke of years And centuries long past, Forgetful of the tugging line That held a flounder fast. "You fished," said I, "two hundred years, And more than that ago? Well, who you are, what doing here, I'd surely like to know!" A dreamy look had filled his eyes, He seemed afar to gaze, The while I waited tremulous, With wonder and amaze! "Yon thriving town," he slowly said, "Whose distant towers you see, Proud of its beauty and its wealth, Owes much to mine and me! We came when here the wilderness Stood thick and dark around, And savage beasts and savage men Held the uncultured ground. The river and its feeding brooks Ran murmuring to the sea, And waves here sang, but not a soul Echoed their melody! We felled the trees, we broke the soil, Our humble cabins reared, And thrusting back the crowding wood We farm and garden cleared. It was an age of toil severe; At times our courage failed; Yet we pressed on, for well we knew 'Twas death to him who quailed! 150 And so at length the little town Here by the pulsing bay, Rose into comeliness and strength, A settlement to stay! It spread beyond, upon the hills, Unfolded east and west, And vale and slope and pasture land And forest all possessed! We early built the house of God And made it strong and fair, And consecrated it to Him With earnest psalm and prayer. And Parson Hanford wove his spell And chained our hearts with ease, The while he showed a sovereign God And talked of the decrees! We never felt the summer's heat, Nor feared the winter's cold, The air of heaven the sacred place Seemed ever to enfold. And in our little homes we knew The sweetest joys of love; For blessings on the hearthstone fell Directly from above!" The speaker paused; his bosom heaved By deep emotion stirred, And then while throbbed the restless sea, This moving tale I heard: "Across the road from father's house The Matthew Marvins dwelt, And Sarah was the girl for whom A deep regard I felt! And as the years rolled on and we Together talked and played, And often through the open fields And by the water strayed, That "deep regard' of mine increased, Until I came to feel That if I had her faithful love 'T would all my sorrows heal! I thought that with her company, My life, though filled with care, Would blossom out in loveliness And fruit immortal bear. For Sarah was as sweet a girl 151 As ever breathed the air, As graceful as a forest rose, And just as bright and fair! Her cheeks were pink as dawning day; Her hair was finest gold; Her eyes were blue as ocean waves; Her charm could ne'er be told! One springtime, 'twas in '79, if I remember right, And just a day like this, when earth And sky were wondrous bright; I in the furrow left the plough, I had no heart for work, Though none had ever dared to call Young Thomas Betts a 'shirk!' Across the path I went in haste, And Sarah asked, if she That afternoon would take a walk Away down by the sea. I told her that the samphire then Had reached a goody size And that with quantities thereof Her mother we'd surprise! She was agreed and so we came, And reached this very spot, And of the sea-washed succulent Gathered a generous lot. And then we sat upon the point Where we are met to-day, And heard the waters lap, and saw Them sparkle far away. And, after hitching all about, And struggling with a cough, And sitting close to her and then Removing further off, At length I said, 'You, Sarah, know,' And then my courage fell, 'You, Sarah, know — how pleasant 'tis To see the waters swell! No, no, it isn't that I'd say. But that you know full well How pleasant 'tis down by the sea A little time to dwell! For shame!' I cried, 'You, Sarah, know, What I can never tell! 152 But though I have a stumbling tongue, My heart, it loves you well! And I have long desired to learn If you will be my wife, And bring a heavenly charm and joy Into my lonely life!' She sat in all her radiant youth Where you are sitting now, With dreamy eyes and glowing cheek And calm and thoughtful brow. And she replied, 'You're dear to me, And that you well must know, For the sweet secret of my heart I'm sure I could but show. But is it best that with our love Life's fleeting years we fill? Has it for us been thus decreed? Is it the Father's will? We must, in fear, our souls prepare For pleasures that endure, And make our calling, 'mid earth's scenes, And our election sure. I've asked that God would guide aright In these affairs of mine, And yet, if He have heard my prayer, He gives no certain sign. 0 that while here in joy we meet Beside the laughing sea. Some token might be given us If you are meant for me! Look, Thomas, see yon rock that lifts Its head above the wave, 1 wonder if its rugged height The rising tide will lave! Let's pray that if it be His will That you be wholly mine, That rock, ere night, shall hide itself Beneath the crystal brine!' And so we asked that He whose hand Directs the shifting tide, Might thus declare, if 'twas His will That she should be my bride. And then we watched! O slowly rose The waters of the bay! Never so slowly as upon That far-off, fateful day! 153 We sat in silence, knowing well How much the signal meant, And all my soul in pleading prayer To heaven for mercy went! Slowly, so slowly, rose the tide; Yet steadily it came, While over it the western skies Burst into gorgeous flame! At last, the waters swept the rock! They settled o'er its head! They hid it 'neath their blessed waves! 'It is His will,' she said. And while the wavelets leaped and laughed And splendor filled the skies, A look of heavenly rapture stole Into her soulful eyes. 'Let's praise our gracious God,' I said; Our voices blent in one As grateful psalm we sang, and gazed Upon the setting sun. 'The sea is His; He made its waves; He lifts them at His will; And sea and land and storm and sun His purposes fulfill!' At length we took the samphire home,