Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BEYOND THE MEADOWS OF JERSEY, by WILLIAM WOODFORD ROCK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BEYOND THE MEADOWS OF JERSEY, by                    
First Line: Over the meadows and far away
Last Line: Is my snug little home in jersey.
Subject(s): Fields; New Jersey; Pastures; Meadows; Leas


Over the meadows and far away,
Is my snug little home in Jersey.
The meadows, I'll own it, are far from gay,
No fragrant odor of new-mown hay,
No browsing kine, and no lambs at play,
No babbling brook on its purling way,
Adorn the meadows of Jersey.

I traverse the meadows every day
From my neat little home in Jersey.
In place of the lambs and the grazing kine,
Great flocks of freight cars browse in line;
Instead of a brook, pellucid, fair,
The dark Passaic stains the air;
In lieu of the hay, an odor brown
Assails my nerves on the way to town
From my neat little home in Jersey.

And they who in Manhattan dwell,
Talk of mosquitoes, and swamps, and smell.
They joke of the meads of Asphodel,
And laughingly point to Jersey.
They heap derision and hurl abuse,
And I might resent it, but what's the use,
For what do they know of Jersey!
'Tis little I care what the people say,
When over the meadows and far away
Is my home in the hills of Jersey.

Over the meadows and far away
Wine-red are the hills of Jersey.
There are peaceful farms, and the wholesome sod,
And winds that carry the gifts of God;
There are blazing skies when the day grows old,
With the crests of the ridges dipped in gold;
There are woods aflame, and banks agleam,
And set in the midst of that color scheme
Is my snug little home in Jersey.





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