Entranced, we saw the golden woods Slope gently to the sands; The grassy meads, the oaks that dwarfed Their kin of other lands; And from the shore the balmy wind Blew sweeter than the spice of Ind. As he whose eyes, though opened wide, Are fixed upon a dream, So Colman--one who long had held Our Hudson's warm esteem-- Gazed on the gorgeous scene, and said, "Ere even's shades are overspread, "Proudly our flag on yonder height Shall tell of Holland's gain; Proclaiming her to all the earth The sovereign of the main." And quickly from the Half Moon's bow We turned the longboat's yielding prow. The measured flashing of the oars Broke harshly on the ear; And eye asked eye--for lips were mute-- What Holland hearts should fear; For true it is our hearts were soft, Save his, who held the flag aloft. And suddenly our unshaped dread Took direful form and sound. For from a near nook's rocky shade, Swift as pursuing hound, A savage shallop sped, to hold From stranger feet that strand of gold. And rageful cries disturbed the peace That on the waters slept; And Echo whispered on the hills, As though an army crept, With flinty axe and brutal blade, Through the imperforate forest shade. "What! are ye cravens?" Colman said; For each had shipped his oar. He waved the flag: "For Netherland, Pull for yon jutting shore!" Then prone he fell within the boat, A flinthead arrow through his throat! And now full many a stealthy skiff Shot out into the bay; And swiftly, sadly, pulled we back To where the Half Moon lay; But he was dead--our master wept-- He smiled, brave heart, as though he slept. Then to the seaward breeze our sail With woful hearts we threw; And anchored near a sandy strip That looks o'er ocean blue: And there we kissed and buried him, While surges sang his funeral hymn. And many a pitying glance we gave, And many a prayer we said, As from that grave we turned, and left The dark sea with her dead; For--God of Waves!--none could repress One choking thought--_the loneliness_! THOMAS FROST. Hudson ascended the river to a point a little above the present town of Albany, then turned back and returned to Holland. His report of the rich country he had discovered was received with enthusiasm there, and preparations were begun on an extensive scale to colonize the new country. Dutch voyagers explored all the adjacent coasts, among the most active being Adrian Block. ADRIAN BLOCK'S SONG [July, 1615] Hard aport! Now close to shore sail! Starboard now, and drop your foresail! See, boys, what yon bay discloses, What yon open bay discloses! Where the breeze so gently blows is Heaven's own land of ruddy roses.