PART SECOND [Extract]

 

THE MAIDEN

 

Why seeks the knight that rocky cape

Beyond the Bay of Lynn?

What chance his wayward course may shape

To reach its village inn?

 

No story tells; whate'er we guess,

The past lies deaf and still,

But Fate, who rules to blight or bless,

Can lead us where she will.

 

Make way! Sir Harry's coach and four,

And liveried grooms that ride!

They cross the ferry, touch the shore

On Winnisimmet's side.

 

They hear the wash on Chelsea Beach,--

The level marsh they pass,

Where miles on miles the desert reach

Is rough with bitter grass.

 

The shining horses foam and pant,

And now the smells begin

Of fishy Swampscott, salt Nahant,

And leather-scented Lynn.

 

Next, on their left, the slender spires

And glittering vanes that crown

The home of Salem's frugal sires,

The old, witch-haunted town.

 

So onward, o'er the rugged way

That runs through rocks and sand,

Showered by the tempest-driven spray,

From bays on either hand,

 

That shut between their outstretched arms

The crews of Marblehead,

The lords of ocean's watery farms,

Who plough the waves for bread.