Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Holland: Vols. XIV–XV. 1876–79.
To
By Thomas Hood (17991845)I
A city new and strange,
Down many a watery vista
My fancy takes a range;
From side to side I saunter,
And wonder where I am;
And can you be in England,
And I at Rotterdam?
In broad canals and deep,
Whereon the silver moonbeams
Sleep, restless in their sleep;
A sort of vulgar Venice
Reminds me where I am;
Yes, yes, you are in England,
And I ’m at Rotterdam.
Where frequent windows shine,
And quays that lead to bridges
And trees in formal line,
And masts of spicy vessels
From western Surinam,
All tell me you ’re in England,
But I ’m in Rotterdam.
The face and form of each!
They deal in foreign gestures,
And use a foreign speech;
A tongue not learned near Isis,
Or studied by the Cam,
Declares that you ’re in England,
And I ’m at Rotterdam.
My doubtful way I trace,
Where stands a solemn statue,
The Genius of the place;
And to the great Erasmus
I offer my salaam;
Who tells me you ’re in England,
But I ’m at Rotterdam.
I mingle in its crowd,—
The dominos are noisy,—
The hookahs raise a cloud;
The flavor now of Fearon’s,
That mingles with my dram,
Reminds me you ’re in England,
And I ’m at Rotterdam.
The toast it shall be mine.
In schiedam, or in sherry,
Tokay, or hock of Rhine;
It well deserves the brightest,
Where sunbeam ever swam,—
“The Girl I love in England”
I drink at Rotterdam!