This Volume IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF C. F. S. DIED: MAY 13, 1863. ALICE OF MONMOUTH. I. 1. Hendrick Van Ghelt of Monmouth shore, His fame still rings the county o’er! The stock that he raised, the stallion he rode, The fertile acres his farmers sowed; The dinners he gave; the yacht which lay At his fishing-dock in the Lower Bay; The suits he waged, through many a year, For a rood of land behind his pier,— Of these the chronicles yet remain From Navesink Heights to Freehold Plain. 2. The Shrewsbury people in autumn help Their sandy toplands with marl and kelp, And their peach and apple orchards fill The gurgling vats of the cross-road mill. They tell, as each twirls his tavern-can, Wonderful tales of that stanch old man, And they boast, of the draught they have tasted and smelt, “’Tis good as the still of Hendrick Van Ghelt!” 3. Were he alive, and at his prime, In this, our boisterous modern time, He would surely be, as he could not then, A stalwart leader of mounted men,— A ranger, shouting his battle-cry, Who knew how to fight and dared to die; And the fame which a county’s limit spanned Might have grown a legend throughout the land. 4. He would have scoured the Valley through, Doing as now our bravest do; Would have tried rough-riding on the border, Punishing raider and marauder; With bearded Ashby crossing swords As he took the Shenandoah fords; Giving bold Stuart a bloody chase Ere he reached again his trysting-place. Horse and horseman of the foe The blast of his bugle-charge should know, And his men should water their steeds, at will, From the banks of Southern river and rill. 5. How many are there of us, in this Discordant social wilderness, Whose thriftiest scions the power gain, Through meet conditions of sun and rain, To yield, on the fairest blossoming shoot, A mellow harvest of perfect fruit? Fashioned after so rare a type, How should his life grow full and ripe, There, in the passionless haunts of Peace, Through trade, and tillage, and wealth’s increase? 6. But at his manor-house he dwelt, And royally bore the name Van Ghelt; Nor found a larger part to play Than such as a county magnate may: Ruling the hustings as he would, Lord of the rustic neighborhood; With potent wishes and quiet words Holding an undisputed sway. The broadest meadows, the fattest herds, The fleetest roadsters, the warmest cheer,— These were old Hendrick’s many a year. Daughters unto his hearthstone came, And a son—to keep the ancient name.