The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

“I'll do my very best endeavor,”
He writes in tones of modest doubt,
“To give a notion of the river
An' countries piled up roundabout.
The banks got loftier an' steeper
A mile or two from top to base;
While, underneath, the trough got deeper,
The current speedier in pace.

“I spanked along through signs an' wonders
Tremenjous big, but all in ruins,
Which seemed to me like Satan's blunders,
Instead of Heavenly Wisdom's doins.
I saw pagodas, domes, pavilions
Consid'able like works of Hindoos,
With spires an' pinnacles by millions,
An' hoss-shoe doors an' p'inted windows;

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No eend of battlements an' ditches,
Redoubts an' bastions, gates an' towers,
As though the fallen spooks an' witches
Expected siege by angel powers;
And, now an' then, a mile-long frigate
Aground upon a mile-high crag,
With goblins bustlin' round to rig it,
Or histin' up old Nipton's flag;
Besides the most enormous picturs!
A mile of paint at every whack!
Red, yaller, purple, speckled mixturs,
Or grizzled, foxy, green an' black.

“In idol-fixins there were Dagons
An' Baals an' Molochs by the hunderd,
An' many other gods of pagans,
The biggest part all cracked an' sundered.
No eend of shapes from morn to sundown
Of every size an' every kind;
Three hundred miles my barky run down
Afore I left the town behind.
An' nawthin' right, or straight, or solid
From north to south; it seemed a pity
Hard-workin' imps should be so stolid,
An' only build a ruined city.