THE FORESTERS. 



And rising Chestnut-Hill around surveyed, 

 Wide woods below in vast extent displayed. 

 Studded with glitt'ring farms; the distant view 

 Died hi to mingling clouds and mountains blue ; 

 The road was good, the passing scenery gay, 

 Mile after mile passed unperceived away, 

 Till in the west the day began to close, 

 And Spring-house tavern furnished us repose. 

 Here two long rows of market folks were seen, 

 Ranged front to front, the table placed between, 

 Where bags of meat and bones, and crusts of bread, 

 And hunks of bacon all around were spread ; 

 One pint of beer from lip to lip went round, 

 And scarce a crumb the hungry house-dog found ; 

 Torrents of Dutch from every quarter came, 

 Pigs, calves, and saur-craut the important theme ; 

 While we, on future plans revolving deep, 

 Discharged our bill and strait retired to sleep. 



The morning star shone early on our bed, 

 Again our march the vigorous Duncan led, 

 The vault of heaven with constellations hung, 

 Their myriads twinkling as he cheerly sung, 

 Beguiling the lone hours. Thus half the day, 

 O'er hill and dale our stretching journey lay, 

 Through fertile Bucks, (4) where lofty barns abound, 

 For wheat, fair Quakers, eggs, and fruit renowned ; 

 Full fields, snug tenements, and fences neat, 

 Wide-spreading walnuts drooping o'er each gate; 

 The spring-house peeping from enclustering trees, 

 Gay gardens filled with herbs, and roots and bees, 



