I.
Athwart
my boyhood stream I gazed,
Far in the hills supreme;
And
there beheld a Resting place,
A very poet’s dream.
“What
spot be that, my worthy friend?”
Quoth I with interest;
“Why
that,” quoth he, with pride to me,
“That sire, be Mummer’s Rest.”
II.
“E’en
so,” quoth I, “then speed away,
For thither would I go;
A
worthy couple dwell therein,
Whom better would I know.”
Then
spy me did the genial Mum,
Who greetings gave with zest;
“Welcome,”
quoth he, right brotherlee,
“Welcome to Mummer’s Rest.”
III.
And
did we dwell long on the stage,
Old memories awake;
Forsooth
did tempt ye many bass,
On fair old Bashan Lake.
And
by and by the festive board,
And merry making, jest;
Bohemia,
that dazzling star,
Found I at Mummer’s Rest.
IV.
Of
eggs and bacon did I fill,
Forsooth did much expand;
And
biscuits? “first attempts,” quoth
she,
Shaped by a mummer’s hand.
Ah,
Bashan Lake, and Moodus fair,
Long may you well be blest;
And
well-fare-you, good souls and true,
Thou Mums at Mummer’s Rest.
*Wright-Huntington’s summer home,
Bashan,
Conn. (East Haddam)
In
a Mummer’s hammock,
July
26, ‘95
Pub.
in Conn.
Valley
Advertiser,
Aug. 2, ‘95
Mummer – 1) a performer in a
pantomime; broadly: actor; 2) one who goes merrymaking in disguise
during festivals.
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