English poem
Ii
by Bret Harte
Some thoughts like these perplexed the patriot brain Of Jones, Lawgiver to the Commonwealth, As on the threshold of this chaste domain He paused expectant, and looked up in stealth To darkened canvases that frowned amain, With stern-eyed Puritans, who first began To spread their roots in Georgius Primus' reign, Nor dropped till now, obedient to some plan, Their century fruit,--the perfect Boston man.