Hollands Arcadia, of de vermaarde rivier den Amstel; : vertónende alle deszelfs lustplaatz...

That is the MORNING HOUR, well worthy of love,
Where the day-before-day sees the Morning Hour begin,
When Aurora from the east in a purple-dyed robe,
Embroidered with pearls, treads on the track of the clouds,
And still lets the silvery dew flow for Memnon's death,
And comes to sprinkle the field and the flower-growth with tears,
Of which this MORNING HOUR is richly shared,
Whereby fertility plays along its grounds.
The fences, the trees, and the Yews show
Themselves each at their finest, to crown this garden
With all that is graceful. The Sundial shines
On a raised pillar, the shadow of its needle
Lets us know the right time for country-pleasure,
But I would soon forget the Summerhouse in my fervor,
That magnificent summerhouse, so perfectly and neatly built,
So highly raised, that the eye holds a view,
Wherever it wants to turn to receive the finest sight,
Where the eye remains enchanted everywhere by the pleasure.
Bloom long, oh MORNING HOUR! my Singing-spirit goes on,
There I see STRANDVLIET, which charms my eye from afar,
Though the Amstel prevents me from coming closer to it,
Where it comes foaming along these banks,
And kisses the edges of Mr. STRANDWYK'S country-pleasure,
Where in his shadow-hedge the little fisherman so often
Tricks the fish, which is deceived by the bait.
There I see OOSTRUST enraptured in wonder.
Is this a country building? oh no! it is a palace,
Where Architecture has shown all her work according to requirements,
At its most graceful, to serve as a proof
Of how high she knows how to draw her glory on the lonely land,
And that she lives here as well as in the cities,
Of which OOSTRUST now gives us a magnificent example.
OOSTRUST

The facade splendor rises above all trees,
And keeps the wanderer's attention occupied,
When he sees this country-jewel from the road,
What magnificent Triumphal Arch appears in the distance,
Which is occupied on both sides with green shorn hedges?
It suits you OOSTRUST to wear such a magnificent ornament,
SCHUYT

Because Mr. SCHUYT loves the country-pleasure for your sake,
And finds a sweet delight in your shade,
When he relaxes his cares in the amiable country life.
Renowned SCHUYT! who will give you your praise as required,
Since you so faithfully help steer the rudder of the East India Company original: "Ooſter-Maatſchappy",
To bring the treasure of Java to the IJ the body of water near Amsterdam,
By keeping a watchful eye everywhere.
The fertile herb-garden of those fragrant country-dews,
Presents the East India Company to the free Netherlands,
She is Amalthea in mythology, the foster-mother of Zeus, associated with the horn of plenty, who on neither side of the Ganges shore,
Makes the treasure wither, to her lifted horns,
Our Amstel Maiden, everywhere endowed with the gods' favor,
To pour into the lap with full abundance,
That trade, which feeds the lion in power and greatness,
Mr. SCHUYT, always deserved your attention, in order to boost
OOST-RUST

His respect to the top, far above everyone's expectation,
You watch next to others always for its preservation,
May OOSTRUST then long still be your rest and pleasure-place,

To chase away cares with its loveliness,
As long as country-pleasure can please you on the Amstel.
TULPENBURG

I approach TULPENBURG, the most beautiful diamond
That the Amstel-nymph braids to her shining necklace,
The fame and the show-ornament of all Court-buildings.
Lovely TULPENBURG I lose in beholding you
My Singing-nymph and myself, for everything I see
Is more than royal. oh Magnificent Forecourt! who
Does not stand amazed to see art living in the iron,
Where so much foliage-work, driven through one another,
Surpasses the delicate art-brush in beauty,
While it lifts its own Name upwards in the forecourt.
Yonder the court-building boasts with its raised roofs,
No tree, however heaven-high, can reach its height,
oh No, it sticks its crown far above everything,
The outer view can only enchant my spirit,
How perfect must the inside then be?
Ah! had one been able to read your word in my song,
I would be much more satisfied with you and you with me.
Illustrious Summerhouse, that I see standing on the corner,
Your Niches are decorated with Vases, along whose feet
The green hedge climbs to greet the artwork,
While the other side also boasts a Summer pleasure-place,
Where the eye, when the sun shines on its glass,
Is blinded by a series of a thousand sparkles.
The trees, that surround this beautiful Garden everywhere!
The Hedges, that I see in front and on the side,
I pass by in my way in silence,
Where everything is filled with a selection of choice ornaments.
oh TULPENBURG! who cannot satisfy his pleasure here,
Would not satisfy the Hesperides' garden, nor Tempe a valley in Greece famous for its beauty,
Though everyone shone at their finest in the noble Year season.
But everyone who sees you is immediately enraptured,
By beholding so many wonders together,
PINTO

Where PINTO gives his spirit a free resting place,
When he lives safely in the cool shadow,
And sees how art makes the bright crystal play
Along all sides, to stroke the observant eye
Through the rushing water-work, which shows itself at its finest,
TULPENBURG

And crowns the wonder Tulpenburg with double glory.
Farewell Mr. PINTO! may this garden never diminish,
May never the slightest misfortune hinder you in your rest,
So that you always fulfill your country-pleasure in joy,
So may your Tulpenburg remain the ornament of the Amstel's flood,
BUITENZORG

Now BUITENZORG greeted from afar with my songs,
Voluptuous Buitenzorg meaning "Without Care" what heart must not long
BACKER

To live by you, so that never care reigns?
But that love-worthy Name is only honored to you,
Because Mr. BACKER can live here without cares,
Which he constantly has to cling to in the city-turmoil,
While he obliges the Capitol referring to the Town Hall to his care,
Where he often praise-worthily has performed the alderman-office,
And maintained justice by punishing violence and robbery,
And to provide virtue its reward according to value:
In such an airy office BUITENZORG was always
BUITENZORG

The resting place of his spirit, dedicated to Concord.
The airy Summerhouse, where the water comes flowing along,
Shaded by a series of high-topped trees,
Provides Mr. BACKER'S pleasure on the Amstel's silvery stream,
This small room, in which he enjoys the sweetness of rest,
Can, through contentment, give him more pleasure,
Than often the throne-room gives to a Monarch in this life,
The green Hedge covers the view of the Garden,
But the enclosed land-eye finds however other material,

On the sight of the main building so high risen in top,
Here one can be safe from the cold and heat,
And see nevertheless all the beauty that the country-pleasure gives us,
When one lives calmly in peace at BUITENZORG,
Or if it pleases Mr. BACKER, on the rippling of the currents,
At the evening twilight to sail the Amstel,
BUITENZORG

To enjoy the young cool breeze on the stream,
The boat-house lies ready, the boat lies at the edge,
And everything is ready to receive that pleasure,
For which the summer-time often makes us long.
Bloom long, oh BUITENZORG! bloom long to BACKER'S pleasure,
And offer the worthy Lord a garden of peace and rest!
Now Mr. DE JONG greeted in the lonely country life,
And the blooming AMSTELLAND given its honor and praise:
AMSTELLAND

That Amstelland that shows itself so pleasantly,
Where the old simplicity lives with her playmates,
To entertain this Garden-lord on the country-pleasure,
And to pay his diligence and care with joy.
I see WESTER-AMSTEL, where I quickly step past,
WESTER-AMSTEL

My Poetry-goddess has desire to dedicate her Poetry
To a worthier object, than she sees here.
The airy ZONNESTYN can please her much more,
ZONNESTYN

Where WALRAVEN finds a lovely rest.
The green hedge closes the view, to reward my pleasure
In the beauty of the noble garden-ornaments,
Where everything is overloaded with flower and blossom,
When the sweet spring ascends her seat on the land.
The wide Garden-gate gives a pleasant sight,
Through the sparkling of the sun, which we see shining on the body,
As if Apollo himself appeared from the Eastern halls,
To go on his day-journey on Aurora's track.
How is the playing eye satisfied in the court-building,
Whose ascent shows itself so wide and highly raised,
To give a free view on the Amstel-stream,
Bloom long, oh ZONNESTYN! to the hope of WALRAVEN'S joy,
WALRAVEN

ZONNESTYN

She remains your fertility always in a fresh youth.
I go further on to behold Mr. BUENOS PLAIRES Spanish for "Good Pleasures",
BUENOS PLAIRES

And although the access is kept from me by the water,
Nevertheless its condition is pleasing to the sight:
The square Garden-house, erected from the water,
Gives its reflection in the rippling waves,
It seems to sail through the sparkling of its ground,
Where it nevertheless always remains in one and the same condition,
The court-building is, by the trees, high of crown,
Shaded, which increases the ornament of this garden,
Through the cool shade of the neatly planted alleys.
And KARSSENHOF began at the Amstel's wide edge,
KARSSENHOF

Which mirrors itself in the silvery bright stream,
To thus entertain Mr. WATERMAN on the country-pleasure.
WATERMAN

What eye must not wander in the seeing of the trees,
It is all equally densely occupied, planted, overgrown,
When the Winter-frost is shackled by Flora,
And his severity must disappear for the spring,
It comes to appear first of all on KARSSENHOF,
There she lives in the green of the budding tree,
Until the Winter is curbed again in his turn,

And makes blossoms and herbs wither and fade;
To acquire life again by the spring,
Whereby KARSSENHOF remains forever in condition,
Like his summerhouse, at the bright water-side,
Must still long serve Mr. WATERMAN for pleasure and joy,
When the country-pleasure comes to take him away from city-turmoil.
Where KARSSENHOF invites him to rest in the lovely green,
And everywhere to fulfill his joy.
A series of gardens, with their magnificent buildings,
Make me behold the wealth of the Amstel-stream;
The gardens are here attached to each other:
Here lives Mr. Schepper, there LIBARIUS: who tells
LIBARIUS

Me where the separation is of these country-jewels?
The eye goes to play in a row of Summerhouses,
With green hedges as if joined to each other.
Reproach-all Momus a figure in Greek mythology representing criticism and mockery, who are never satisfied,
Speak up! what can you find here in these gardens?
They are secured from the sun, from harsh winds,
And Concord lives here, though you always diminish that,
The garden-buildings are in a perfect state,
And boast as if in competition with their raised roofs:
Mock! you who heard the sole of Venus crack,
Are you speechless now? so be silent in eternity.
The graceful arch, prepared from laths,
Comes to show itself at its finest by the lush green,
To crown Mr. LIBARIUS'S pleasure-place:
But I continue the row of Gardens, HOGERLUST
HOGERLUST

Shows itself in its turn. But how! is the rest here
Not safe? and must one fear the enemy here?
Thus tries my Singing-heroine to obtain a hiding place?
What Amazon evades here the shining of the sun,
Who arms the summerhouse with the thundering cannon?
Penthesilea a queen of the Amazons in Greek mythology, have you appeared on the Amstel-stream,
After you lost your life before Ilium Troy.
And do you threaten here anew to go furiously to battle?
BLOK

No Miss van der Els never put on the harness,
But seeks only her well-being on HOGERLUST:
I go further where Mr. BLOK spends the warm summer days
By the shady green and shadow of the trees,
Where the rippling water flows along the angular Summerhouse,
Where behind the court-building so grandly shows itself,
I see it crowned by its Gallery and the little tower,
Which gives a double splendor to this summer-garden,
Where on Mr. BLOK lives calmly in peace and joy.
The sun hides its glittering rays in the west,
A lovely Evening-hour comes softly descending,
I sit myself down by OUDERKERK before PAARDENBURG,
OUDERKERK

Where the view hovers along the Amstel back and forth,
While I hope to find rest here from the night.
But while I am stroked here by the warm winds,
Old OUDERKERK, brings the memory into my spirit,
PAARDENBURG

That here the Amstel-castle has been in former times,
Mr. Gysbrecht's Gijsbrecht van Aemstel, a legendary lord of Amstel country-ornament, which the war has devoured,
When Floris was de-souled, by twenty-one wounds.
oh Velzen! your revenge, for the violating of your Wife,
Struck Amstel on the heart with a double mourning,
What horrors did the Stream-god not have to behold,
When the war-fire flew through the fleets and buildings