Hollands tempe verhérelykt, vertoond in dertig gezigten; beginnende van Amsterdam af langs de Haarlemmer...

That which shines along the fence, and thrusts its point on high.
Oh MEERVLIET! You provide a Paradise for the eye,
To refresh the noble Trip Referring to the prominent Amsterdam merchant and regent family, the Trips. in all his cares,
Who never spends a day, indeed not one of the smallest moments,
Except in the care for the well-being of the State.
But MEERVLIET, it is time that I leave you again,
To rest myself a little within VELZEN,
And to delight in the humility of the countryman.
Oh Countly VELZEN! Widely famed by Lord Geraard,
Who has shed the wanton blood with the sword,
And made Floris Referring to Count Floris V of Holland, whose assassination in 1296 led to significant regional upheaval. atone for his wanton lust with death,
I stand amazed to meet you still so well, so fair,
Where so many castles and manors have been destroyed,
And so many thousands of people have been slain,
To avenge Floris's harsh death on the stem of Velzen,
How have you, lively village! escaped that war's disaster?
It is a wonder that you, after the dying of your Lord,
Are not turned to dust, destroyed, trampled, never to let
The name of Velzen be heard by the world again,
Since you still shine so beautifully now with your Church and Tower,
And caress my sight with a pleasant state.
I rejoice in your health, oh fame of Kenn'merland!
Where I think to find a little rest in your shadow.
Oh Country-pleasure, who would not bind himself to you,
If it were possible, estranged from the city turmoil,
Here innocent virtue is not a target for envy,
To see itself betrayed in the most unexpected and vile way,
One does not cover an Aspis asp, a venomous snake here with beautiful fig leaves,
Oh no! Sincerity, if it has a dwelling place anywhere,
It is certain that it lives in the country, and with the countryman.
But let us go further, the sun begins to descend,
And threatens with the evening hour to limit my walk.
There is Lord Corver's place, the glorious WATERVLIET,
Where he often enjoys his pleasure and country-delight,
By the green of the hedges, and steep rising trees,
But have I unexpectedly arrived here at the Nile?
And do I see the Pyramids before my eye, which
He courageously carries fame upon, and so many thousand years
Already has carried? No, but I see them relive
On WATERVLIET, to give it even more ornament,
As Velzen's worthy Lord, who on the Amstelstream
Carries the scale of Themis The Greek goddess of divine law and custom., to keep wrongdoing in check,
Or to punish according to the demand of the lawful right,
Wishes here to provide himself a little rest from his care,
Boast freely, oh WATERVLIET! of your luck and honor,
That you are the resting place of Velzen's alert Lord,
Who knows how to pair Civil Law with Martial Law,
While he, as Colonel, cares and watches for Mavors' A poetic reference to Mars, the god of war. war-hosts,
And again as Alderman cares and watches for his citizens:
One has rightly made the Spear upon your crest,
Oh Summer-house! For the fame of Corver can our earth
In no way contain, no, it flies in brilliance and value
As widely through the heavens as Phoebus Apollo, often associated with the sun. radiates daylight,
Just as this pleasure-garden always boasts with beautiful luster,
In which state I hope it will always flourish,
And grow in honor and regard with Lord Corver's name!
Thus you remain, oh WATERVLIET! famed in eternity,
As long as the Batavier Batavian, an archaic name for the Dutch people. keeps the lap of the sea!
Or lets his pennants hover along all shores,
So long will WATERVLIET live in honor and glory.
Now onward, where 't HUIS TE SCHULPEN The House at the Shells. shows itself,
Where Cheerfulness lives with her Playmates,
By the humming of the trees, in sweet summer days,
The elegance of the house can please me perfectly,
The magnificent front gate has as if enraptured my attention,
It is the Architecture here on every side successful
To join beauty and neatness with one another,
HET HUIS TE SCHULPEN must satisfy envy itself,
However bitingly it always sneers at another's work:
But has Terminus The Roman god who protected boundary markers. descended here to the earth,
To carefully guard this court always?
His statues seem to explain this sufficiently,
Which stand on either side of the proud entrance,
Watch then Terminus, and let no one enter,
Other than those to whom Lord KOUSSEBAND gives freedom,
Thus he can live long satisfied on this pleasure-site,
Thus this court building stands for a series of years,
And stretches a pearl on the Crown of Kenn'merland,
To always triumph with its elegance.
But Song-nymph, is it not time to limit your walk?
You shake your head, and say: we must go further,
I have not even satisfied my curious eye in the least:
Go then where it pleases you, I follow your footsteps.
There we see Schuybbeek with all its loveliness,
But by the fence our garden-view is hindered,
Thus my attention has set itself on the court building,
Which shows itself so perfectly to the carriage road.
Oh SCHUYBBEEK! Thus to live in the country in solitude,
Where the chirping little bird greets the morning hour,
And meets the rising Sunlight with gratitude,
Can give joy to the soul and rest to the body:
Here Borrel was accustomed to live satisfied, in cheerfulness,
Before death un-souled him, and extinguished the life-light
Of that fame-worthy Lord, who always performed virtue and duty
Faithfully, to please everyone,
Now his Widow finds, by the increase of her days,
On you, oh SCHUYBBEEK! still her joy and cheerfulness,
Whether as the Spring spreads a scent of blossoms,
Or that the Autumn gathers his harvest of beautiful trees
Together, to surprise the Winter
With ripe fruits, before its lean cold begins,
He always finds pleasure who finds sight on Schuybbeek,
Blossom long then beautiful Court with blossom, flower and fruits,
To never fear for disaster, or accident!
While I go further, where ZUYDEWYK invites me
To the most beautiful landscape, and increases my pleasure
To find a little rest by its loveliness.
Could garden-pleasure ever bind me to its beauty,
So you bind me, oh ZUYDEWYK! to your court-ornament,
Your front gate shows for the first, before one goes further,
The beginning of your beautiful and pleasant paths,
The rising brickwork can give us the second sign
Of your perfect state, and airy country-pleasure,
The magnificent court building, which I now approach,
Increases the luster of your high-crested trees;
Who can restrain his attention in wonder,
Who sees so much beauty paired together so neatly?
The art has equaled everything here to the most precise,
To be equal to each other in prosperity.
The sad Heraclitus The Greek philosopher known for his melancholy. would cure his sorrow here,
Which he once felt for the world's vanity,
Even had he wept for the state of people until now,
The alluring ZUYDEWYK would dry his tears,
A glorious garden-view has a perfect power,
To release the heart from pressure, and mourning, and heaviness,
And to caress it with a new joy, to henceforth

Find its pleasure in the safe country-enjoyment:
Does anyone dare ask for proof of this truth,
Then the brave Pels hangs the seal on my poem,
Who often avoids the city turmoil, to give his sight
A cheerfulness on the airy ZUYDEWYK,
Through which the care is driven from the heart for so long,
When the widening eye goes playing from the pleasure-house,
And finds satisfaction in the teeming garden-ornament
Of plant, of tree and herb, and neatly trimmed Hedges:
Oh alert Pels enjoy that joy still for many days,
Indeed for many years for the relaxation of the diligence,
Which you have dedicated to the Merchant-castle of Amsterdam,
Which calls you the main pillar of its Exchange pillars!
May Pales Roman deity of shepherds and livestock. and Pomona Roman goddess of fruit trees. eternally guard you
Oh airy ZUYDEWYK! to the joy of your lord!
While I turn from you satisfied to Akredam.
Oh magnificent garden-view! to paint you properly,
Apollo would have to irradiate me with Homer's spirit,
For otherwise my power falls far short of your beauty,
But where the power is lacking, while zeal prods us,
The will is often taken as if for the deed.
Oh noble Pels who makes evil tremble before Themis's sword,
When you stand at the Y The river IJ at Amsterdam. at her strict Tribunal,
And hold Lady Astrea's Goddess of justice and innocence. right unblemished in state,
Do I dare beg you to look favorably upon my powerless ability,
And weak songstress?
Then she sings well-satisfied the praise of Akredam,
And at the same time also the fame of Pels's famous stem.
You grant my messenger: with what elevated sounds
Shall I, venerable Lord, thank you for that favor?
Where I enjoy rest in the shadow of your Pleasure-site,
Unchallenged by fatigue, or sorrow.
How proudly the gate raises its crest by two pairs of trees!
The rising brickwork can restrain the curious eye,
If it tries foolishly to see the garden-secret;
The front gate only allows that freedom, if
Entrance is not forbidden to us by Lord Pels's pleasure,
Though the sculpture from afar seems to invite us to his beauty,
To go in deeper, but who is so bold here
Who, without order from the Court Lord, dares
To approach so far, to view all the ornament?
I shall, oh Akredam! keep myself by your Front gate,
Where Pels his coat of arms boasts on the flat brickwork,
I see your house from afar, irradiated by the sunlight,
As proof of heaven's favor, showing itself at its most beautiful.
Oh great Vondel! Joost van den Vondel, the most famous Dutch poet and playwright of the 17th century. Prince of Phoebus's alert sons,
Alas! was your death hour not determined long ago,
You would have sacrificed all your intellect and spirit on Akredam,
To dedicate its praise to Eternity,
For noble Poetry endures the violence of the times,
That Heaven-gift defies war, fire, and steel,
Just as Lord Pels his name always in triumph,
By giving the sanctified right its full demand,
Will live in the hearts of all Amsterdammers,
And Akredam through him always be eternalized.
Farewell, oh Garden-view! May Apollo's sunshine
Refresh you day by day with his favor and blessing!
May Iris Goddess of the rainbow, associated with rain. sprinkle you with beautiful sweet rain,
So that you increase your beauty and state year by year!
Thus Lord Pels lives through you many centuries after his death.
But Song-nymph we have come to BEVERWYK,
You must restrain your progress here for a little time,
The body needs to be strengthened, so our attention gets power.
Oh Father Liber! Bacchus, the god of wine. who does not recognize your favor and power
In the blood of the grape, which we receive from you,
No one of the Gods made us obtain a more useful gift,
Though Pallas Athena, associated with the olive tree. gifted the olive, Neptune the swift horse,
And Ceres Goddess of agriculture. the grain-crop to the earth,
Your muscadels go far beyond those gifts,
When the body is tired, and exhausted by the drudgery
And heavy Labor, then your lovely liquid strengthens
The body and the spirit, your fame is not stained;
Though many a one abuses your drink through recklessness,
And with a mindless head falls into sin and wickedness,
Oh no! Who can resist the abuse of gifts?
But let us now continue our way, and go
View BEVERWYK, where the Y comes to greet her,
And closes on her grounds, to meet our pleasure there,
Oh BEVERWYK! fame of the wide Kenn'merland!
How beautifully you show yourself in a perfect state,
Wherever the eye turns, through houses and through trees?
You wake my zeal, my drift is not to be restrained
To view you on every side, to tell of your beauty
In my song, and to weave you a laurel-crown,
Which can ward off the violence of the times,
Here one saw Agatha Saint Agatha of Sicily, patron saint of the church in Beverwijk. honored with the sacrificial service,
Wherefore you were once called Sint Aagtenkirch,
And for that martyr praised all through Holland,
Your Name, oh BEVERWYK! has taken its beginning
Through Pilgrims, whom one saw coming here in counsel,
For the celebration of the feast of Sint Agatha;
But now your first Name is entirely fallen, after
The Roman Religion is driven from the Netherlands,
And the light of truth elevated on the high chair,
Wherefore the Tower with more luster and ornament
Raises its pointed crest, and stands free and safe
Before internal strife, or raging war plagues,
You can, oh BEVERWYK! please the eye everywhere,
Indeed are, where one treads, a pleasure-garden for the sight,
And stretch through your ornament the glory of my Poem,
Thus it pains me that I must leave your beauty:
My Song-nymph urges me on, and seems to hate the rest;
To see new joy again in the continuation of her intended path. But Poem-nymph, consider
Resting, and not treading any further today,
But no! You drive me on through your curiosity,
Go then, I follow you where your zeal leads you.
It is old MERESTYN that we now approach,
Its Front gate can amuse the eye through the grand view,
The Houses on both sides, joined together by the brickwork,
Are neat and elegant, set up by Architecture,
To serve its Landlord for pleasure and benefit,
When it pleases him to withdraw from the turmoil
Of people, for the enjoyment of the joyful Solitude,
Nothing that flatters the heart and the eye with more delight,
Than for an interval to amuse oneself alone,
This makes the heart blaze in pleasure and full joy,
Where everything grows and blooms, and tree, and plant, and herb
Bears its flower and fruits, as Vesta's Goddess of the hearth and domesticity. lap opens
Through the pleasant Spring, and sweet summer days,
One flees in wintertime the snow and hail storms,
And hurries city-wards, as if shunned by the landscape,
To the newly reborn green, by the growing sunlight,