after which we view the old Village of Heemskerk and finally the House at Marquette, belonging to the Gentleman and Mr. JOACHIM RENDORP, with which we conclude our walk in Kennemerland. That we have decided to publish this work in Parts might seem strange to some, though we believe we can justify ourselves with reason; the first of which is: that we wish to meet the desire of the Enthusiasts as much as is possible, and now that was impossible without publishing the work in Parts, until we have fulfilled our intention, as we are now turning our path elsewhere: the second reason is to show the admirers of Landscape-views how our handling of the work is, which we leave to the impartial judgment of the Connoisseurs, for something that praises itself through the work does not need to be praised by any prefaces, nor embellished with any ornament of words; thus we move on to the third reason: which is the excessive costs in completing so many plates, as is our aim to bring to light, for being bound by no number through promise, we can all the better make our free choice, to show everything that appears magnificent to us in our Illustrations, to share it by Parts with the Enthusiasts. See here simply the cause that has moved us to let this, as a continuation of the first Part, see the light of day. We could add much here regarding the utility and the pleasure of these works; but just as a large facade does not fit a small building, even less so does a long preface fit a small book, therefore we will only add here that, for the amusement of the Viewers, we will add a Poetic description to each Part, as has already been done with this one, to please both the ear and the eye through the combination of Poetry and the Art of Drawing, since those two Sisters are almost inseparable. Use this then, Reader and Viewer, for your amusement, for if we give you pleasure, the end of our aim is reached, especially if it is viewed and read with an impartial judgment, while we set out to let the Second Part of this follow before long.

Amsterdam, the 14th
of July 1728.

HOLLAND’S TEMPE

GLORIFIED,

VIEWS;

Sicilian Muses, who on high Helicon,
Mirror yourself in the sheen of the Aganippe spring,
Who from Pindus' top, along hills and valleys,
See the gray Peneus shine upon his water-crown,
And adorn his head with droplets, whose luster
Attaches countless pearls to his reed-wreath,
Until that pure water, mingling in his streams,
Sees its sanctuary taken by a stronger flood,
There winding, like a serpent that shoots along the grass,
Runs through Thessaly, and in the end sees itself,
Near the luxurious Tempe, swallowed by the Aegean Sea.
O Mnemosyne! let not your kindness take offense,
That I, reverently bowed at the foot
Of Pindus, greet you from afar with my song,
To perceive from your wise counsel and reason
What subject my Song-heroine will select today:
For if she dares to undertake something great upon your advice,
Your help shall, I hope, not at all escape her.
Will she pull Antiquity from the dark graves?
Expose herself to a series of misfortunes,
For whoever ventures too boldly upon such a sea,
Full of doubts and uncertainties, has
Above all his care, and diligence, and exerted efforts,
Nothing to expect in the end but a shipwreck.
Or will she, where the violence of the roaring cannon
Imitates the thunder, with fire and smoke the sun
Dims its midday light, by the clattering of the swords,
Snatched out into the field of battle, by the neighing of the horses,
Through drum and trumpet blaring, by a glow
Of a thousand lightnings, go flapping towards the General,
Along the circuit of the enemy's ramparts,
To wreathe the victor's head with laurels?
No, such a heavy burden does not befit her shoulders,
She hates the war-fire, that instrument of sorrow.
Or will she soar along the path of Venus-fire,
And in the shadow of the cool walking-lanes,
Planted with hazel, and oak, and ash, and willow,
See the fresh country youth go dancing hand in hand,
And rejoice in their chaste merriments,
No, she is unaware of their customs and manners.
Or must she at the fire, which Naso Ovid has inspired,
Kindle her torch and reverently kneel down
Before Cyprus' sanctuary, and a hundred church-altars,
Extol the power of the Love-goddess on her strings?
Complain now of Daphne, then of Nice and Rosegard!
Since love most of the time births sadness,
To sigh thus with tears upon the cheeks?

No, she might also make an exile of herself here,
And see herself led away from the IJ, my dear Fatherland,
Forever to the hasty Geest-strand.
She does not rush to view the Sovereigns in grand and magnificent buildings,
On the gruesome Tragic-stage,
To see the changeability of the king's court,
No, she has already satisfied her desire in this material,
And often saw the Great ones choke in blood and tears.
O Muses! lend me favorably your ears,
And teach me wisely through your help to choose, where
My song-desire is confused in so many subjects. But
What tingling touches my soul! by what hidden threads
Does my song-desire feel itself aroused to a strange sigh!
It seems that Apollo's shine radiates my dull spirit,
Gives me counsel, where I have wandered so far from the path,
That my Song-nymph, through so many different ways
Of rich subjects, is herself perplexed with her choice:
Yet in this middle of such doubtfulness,
It is as if the church-portal of Phoebus' majesty
To Delphi, by the hand of his Priest is opened,
There in a dense crowd of Official- and service-companions,
The mad Pythia, who rages and raves and trembles,
Down from the high tripod, gives me this answer:

If you desire the favor of the Gods, the health and blessing of the Muses,
And Phoebus' help, with whom you dare to consult;
Then follow their high command in a quiet state.
Glorify AMSTEL'S TEMPE in the honor of

Now my heart is relieved, my doubting has fled,
I follow your high command immortal Gods!
And fly outside to behold the pleasant country-amusement:
I see already that I approach the gate
Named after Haarlem; there I see the water flow
Of the Trekvaart, the open air, entirely unobstructed by trees,
Gives me a free view to one and the other side.
Here foams the ship-rich IJ, there is the grass-rich land;
But I choose the low road for its garden-ornaments.
The eye can best satiate itself in the flower-growth,
Which spreads its fresh fragrance on every side:
There my eye is already caressed and flattered,
As soon as POSTRUST A specific location or estate reveals itself to the sight,
Which can awaken the lord of DUYST to pleasure and joy,
When he is tired from caring for the Post,
And rests outside Postrust, while the Rider trots
And runs to deliver the letters on time,
Then Bellerophon seems to revive in the post-horse;