I took the downward slant,
Then, without stay or stopping,
My first and last eaves-dropping,
By leader-pipe I sped,
And through the thicket gliding,
Down the steep hillside sliding,
Soon reached the river's bed.

But what was my amazement,--
The fair scene from the casement,
How changed! I could not guess
Where track or rails had vanished,
Town, villas, station, banished,--
All was a wilderness.
Only one ancient gable,
A low-roofed inn and stable,
A creaking sign displayed,
An antiquated wherry,
Below it--"DOBBS HIS FERRY"--
In the clear moonlight swayed.

I turned, and there the craft was,
Its shape 'twixt scow and raft was,
Square ends, low sides, and flat,
And standing close beside me,
An ancient chap who eyed me,
Beneath a steeple-hat;
Short legs--long pipe--style very
Pre-Revolutionary,--
I bow, he grimly bobs,