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Title: In Holland
Author: Eugene Field [
More Titles by Field]
Our course lay up a smooth canal
Through tracks of velvet green,
And through the shade that windmills made,
And pasture lands between.
The kine had canvas on their backs
To temper Autumn's spite,
And everywhere there was an air
Of comfort and delight.
My wife, dear philosophic soul!
Saw here whereof to prate:
"Vain fools are we across the sea
To boast our nobler state!
Go north or south or east or west,
Or wheresoever you please,
You shall not find what's here combined--
Equality and ease!
"How tidy are these honest homes
In every part and nook--
The men folk wear a prosperous air,
The women happy look.
Seeing the peace that smiles around,
I would our land was such--
Think as you may, I'm free to say
I would we were the Dutch!"
Just then we overtook a boat
(The Golden Tulip hight)--
Big with the weight of motley freight,
It was a goodly sight!
Meynheer van Blarcom sat on deck,
With pipe in lordly pose,
And with his son of twenty-one
He played at dominoes.
Then quoth my wife: "How fair to see
This sturdy, honest man
Beguile all pain and lust of gain
With whatso joys he can;
Methinks his spouse is down below
Beading a kerchief gay--
A babe, mayhap, lolls in her lap
In the good old Milky way.
"Where in the land from whence we came
Is there content like this--
Where such disdain of sordid gain,
Such sweet domestic bliss?
A homespun woman I, this land
Delights me overmuch--
Think as you will and argue still,
I like the honest Dutch."
And then my wife made end of speech--
Her voice stuck in her throat,
For, swinging around the turn, we found
What motor moved the boat;
Hitched up in tow-path harness there
Was neither horse nor cow,
But the buxom frame of a Hollandische dame--
Meynheer van Blarcom's frau.
[The end]
Eugene Field's poem: In Holland
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