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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Cambridge</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">AND can it be you've found a place<br>Within this consecrated space,<br>That makes so fine a show,<br>For one of Rip Van Winkle's race?<br>And is it really so?<br>Who wants an old receipted bill?<br>Who fishes in the Frog-pond still?<br>Who digs last year's potato hill?--<br>That's what he'd like to know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And were it any spot on earth<br>Save this dear home that gave him birth<br>Some scores of years ago,<br>He had not come to spoil your mirth<br>And chill your festive glow;<br>But round his baby-nest he strays,<br>With tearful eye the scene surveys,<br>His heart unchanged by changing days,<br>That's what he'd have you know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can you whose eyes not yet are dim<br>Live o'er the buried past with him,<br>And see the roses blow<br>When white-haired men were Joe and Jim<br>Untouched by winter's snow?<br>Or roll the years back one by one<br>As Judah's monarch backed the sun,<br>And see the century just begun?--<br>That's what he'd like to know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I come, but as the swallow dips,<br>Just touching with her feather-tips<br>The shining wave below,<br>To sit with pleasure-murmuring lips<br>And listen to the flow<br>Of Elmwood's sparkling Hippocrene,<br>To tread once more my native green,<br>To sigh unheard, to smile unseen,--<br>That's what I'd have you know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But since the common lot I've shared<br>(We all are sitting 'unprepared,'<br>Like culprits in a row,<br>Whose heads are down, whose necks are bared<br>To wait the headsman's blow),<br>I'd like to shift my task to you,<br>By asking just a thing or two<br>About the good old times I knew,--<br>Here's what I want to know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The yellow meetin' house--can you tell<br>Just where it stood before it fell<br>Prey of the vandal foe,--<br>Our dear old temple, loved so well,<br>By ruthless hands laid low?<br>Where, tell me, was the Deacon's pew?<br>Whose hair was braided in a queue?<br>(For there were pig-tails not a few,)--<br>That's what I'd like to know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bell--can you recall its clang?<br>And how the seats would slam and bang?<br>The voices high and low?<br>The basso's trump before he sang?<br>The viol and its bow?<br>Where was it old Judge Winthrop sat?<br>Who wore the last three-cornered hat?<br>Was Israel Porter lean or fat?--<br>That's what I'd like to know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tell where the market used to be<br>That stood beside the murdered tree?<br>Whose dog to church would go?<br>Old Marcus Reemie, who was he?<br>Who were the brothers Snow?<br>Does not your memory slightly fail<br>About that great September gale?--<br>Whereof one told a moving tale,<br>As Cambridge boys should know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Cambridge was a simple town,<br>Say just when Deacon William Brown<br>(Last door in yonder row),<br>For honest silver counted down,<br>His groceries would bestow?--<br>For those were days when money meant<br>Something that jingled as you went,--<br>No hybrid like the nickel cent,<br>I'd have you all to know,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But quarter, ninepence, pistareen,<br>And fourpence hapennies in between,<br>All metal fit to show,<br>Instead of rags in stagnant green,<br>The scum of debts we owe;<br>How sad to think such stuff should be<br>Our Wendell's cure-all recipe,--<br>Not Wendell H., but Wendell P.,--<br>The one you all must know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I question--but you answer not--<br>Dear me! and have I quite forgot<br>How fivescore years ago,<br>Just on this very blessed spot,<br>The summer leaves below,<br>Before his homespun ranks arrayed<br>In green New England's elmbough shade<br>The great Virginian drew the blade<br>King George full soon should know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O George the Third! you found it true<br>Our George was more than double you,<br>For nature made him so.<br>Not much an empire's crown can do<br>If brains are scant and slow,--<br>Ah, not like that his laurel crown<br>Whose presence gilded with renown<br>Our brave old Academic town,<br>As all her children know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So here we meet with loud acclaim<br>To tell mankind that here he came,<br>With hearts that throb and glow;<br>Ours is a portion of his fame<br>Our trumpets needs must blow!<br>On yonder hill the Lion fell,<br>But here was chipped the eagle's shell,--<br>That little hatchet did it well,<br>As all the world shall know!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472492" data-title="Old Cambridge de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="AND can it be you've found a place
Within this consecrated space,
That makes so fine a show,
For one of Rip Van Winkle's race?
And is it really so?
Who wants an old receipted bill?
Who fishes in the Frog-pond still?
Who digs last year's potato hil..."></div>
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