| |
| THROUGH twelve stout generations | |
| New England blood I boast; | |
| The stubborn pastures bred them, | |
| The grim, uncordial coast, | |
| |
| Sedate and proud old cities,— | 5 |
| Loved well enough by me, | |
| Then how should I be yearning | |
| To scour the earth and sea. | |
| |
| Each of my Yankee forbears | |
| Wed a New England mate: | 10 |
| They dwelt and did and died here, | |
| Nor glimpsed a rosier fate. | |
| |
| My clan endured their kindred; | |
| But foreigners they loathed, | |
| And wandering folk, and minstrels, | 15 |
| And gypsies motley-clothed. | |
| |
| Then why do patches please me, | |
| Fantastic, wild array? | |
| Why have I vagrant fancies | |
| For lads from far away. | 20 |
| |
| My folk were godly Churchmen,— | |
| Or paced in Elders’ weeds; | |
| But all were grave and pious | |
| And hated heathen creeds. | |
| |
| Then why are Thor and Wotan | 25 |
| To dread forces still? | |
| Why does my heart go questing | |
| For Pan beyond the hill? | |
| |
| My people clutched at freedom.— | |
| Though others’ wills they chained,— | 30 |
| But made the Law and kept it,— | |
| And Beauty, they restrained. | |
| |
| Then why am I a rebel | |
| To laws of rule and square? | |
| Why would I dream and dally, | 35 |
| Or, reckless, do and dare? | |
| |
| O righteous, solemn Grandsires, | |
| O dames, correct and mild, | |
| Who bred me of your virtues! | |
| Whence comes this changing child?— | 40 |
| |
| The thirteenth generation,— | |
| Unlucky number this!— | |
| My grandma loved a Pirate, | |
| And all my faults are his! | |
| |
| A gallant, ruffled rover, | 45 |
| With beauty-loving eye, | |
| He swept Colonial waters | |
| Of coarser, bloodier fry. | |
| |
| He waved his hat to danger, | |
| At Law he shook his fist. | 50 |
| Ah, merrily he plundered, | |
| He sang and fought and kissed! | |
| |
| Though none have found his treasure, | |
| And none his part would take,— | |
| I bless that thirteenth lady | 55 |
| Who chose him for my sake! | |
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