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

Of the noble ones, where they themselves fled from the land,
Or extinguished with their blood that terrible fire,
Which destroyed land and people and seemed to be endless.
O Amstel stream, how often have you seen before this
Your current mingled with precious citizen blood,
When the Danish army trod your freedom underfoot,
And you had to bear the pressing yoke of slavery,
Twice you saw yourself thrown into those chains.
But it does not please me to recount your disasters everywhere,
I am satisfied by the beauty of your stream alone,
On which I shall calmly resign myself to rest,
Until Aurora makes the light revive in the east.
It goes well, the day approaches, Lady Venus the morning star
Greets me with the light of the dawn from afar,
Yes, invites me to walk along the Amstel to the end,
So that I may discover its glories in my Song.
There is the canal path of the old and noble face,
I see OUDERKERK, its church and tower irradiated
By the light of the morning sun, which strikes its steep roof
To boast with more splendor.
Farewell, O Church! Bloom long in truth and in rest,
May no discord ever extinguish the fire of peace,
So that you may always flourish in love and harmony,
And your Congregation grow with the number of years!
I would now, O OUDERKERK! depart from your ground,
And strive further in the fresh morning hour,
Be it the BURIAL GROUND of the deceased ISRAELITES,
Who enjoy their resting place here according to Jewish custom,
Stopped me in my journey, O GRAVEYARD! your sight
Enraptures my attention, as I ponder how lightly
The thread of life is cut off by death:
You are a mirror to me, which shows me earthly insignificance,
And perishable beauty at its most perfect,
What use is it to be crowned with honor and treasure,
To live out one’s days in lustfulness?
One must give it all back again in the hour of death,
What is granted to us here for a time on loan,
Thus when life is shortened by death,
He is happy, who conforms to the pleasure
Of the eternal Supreme Power, consoled to bear that lot,
And whose conscience does not feel gnawed by what
He has done in the past, but hopes and wishes only
To be relieved of all bodily ailments one day,
Such a one can triumph infinitely through death.
But this reflection leads me away from the Amstel,
My Song-nymph, who ventured onto the land so early,
To go forward zealously, I must greet HOOFDENBURG,

Where HARTWYK can meet his pleasure on the land,
And rest under the green of the shadowing trees,
While the silvery brook streams along the neat hedge,
Which shields the manor house to prevent it from being seen.
But it will be time to continue my journey,
So that I see further what splendor, what magnificence
Spreads itself along the banks of the Amstel stream.
I approach the TOLLHOUSE, where the wanderer can rest,
And refresh himself with food and drink, to awaken
His desires again, when he, tired and weary,
Has satisfied his gaze in the lush country pleasure.
But we go further where OLDENHOF invites us,
That pleasant amusement is offered to us here,
Its wide and broad place gives freedom to the sight
To see the Manor house, which built according to art
Makes the name of OLDENHOF boast in its facade.
Pleasant pleasure-ground, you make my gaze wander
Through your Hedges, and trees and building.
If it were permitted to my Song-nymph, how happily
Would she linger here, and forget her further journey,
To sit down in your shade and shadow
With DE LA CROIX to taste the joy of the land,
And constantly sing of your perfect beauty and state;
But she must go further and leave OLDENHOF.
May Mr. DE LA CROIX long enjoy this country air.
Where am I? In what region? Do I still stand on Amstel's ground?
Or has a Divinity, in the early morning hour,
Unexpectedly snatched my Birth-stream from me,
To behold proud Frascati and its beauty?
O Yes! This object shows me the Italian splendor,
Old Latium has brought all its beauty together
To decorate the royal building with luster,
O pleasure-garden! I would weave a wreath of eternal laurels,
If I might see you on the Amstel stream in such a state.
But what a stream rushes here along its green side?
How! Do I not see OLDENHOF, which I recently
Passed by, gladdened by my country song?
Can it be truth? Yes, my eye does not deceive me,
Thank heaven! I still stand on the free territory of the States,
Where the noble Lion always watches with gathered arrows,
Which through unity make State and Rapacity yield.
But KIEVITSHEUVEL, I hold myself to your land-adornment,
Your manor house, which surpasses so much beauty,
Shows itself wide and broad with wings on both sides,
The eye is never satisfied with expanding in this beauty,
Where the rising roof-work boasts with four pointed tips.
How beautifully the view is bounded in its course
By green Hedges, which make the pleasure from the roof,
And make an opening in the walking through a round arch,
To behold KIEVITSHEUVEL right in its state.
A neat hedge adorns the low water-side,
Where nature and art pair together in the most beautiful way.
But though this pleasure-garden can equal all others,
It gets even more beautiful luster, and shines like the sun,
When it is greeted by Madam LE GILLON,
Who finds her pleasure here during the summer time,
Live long, honorable Madam, here for a series of days
In undisturbed rest! While I leave this garden,
However much it enraptures me by the choice of its adornment.
I shall now greet the pleasure-ground of Mr. VAN MEEL,
And meet it merrily singing in my walk,
Yes, though the view here is obstructed on all sides
By green Hedges, which the pruning-art keeps smooth and neat
In state and being, yet it can still cause joy
In everyone who sees it, and enrapture the eye
Of the wanderers, at the sound of Mr. VAN MEEL’s name,
Which spreads itself so often on wings of fame,
Until where Suriname feels the fire of the sun blaze on its head,
An important Secretary. office, to watch with that Company,
Is entrusted to his care, for the benefit of the merchant-trade,
Which has established its seat at the Y,
To drag away from the American, with fully loaded Ships,
His gold, his silver, and his fruits,
And to sacrifice them to free the Netherlands,
Where Mr. VAN MEEL's name will remain in state forever.

I approach HOLENDREGT in the shadow of the trees,
Which rustlingly welcome my Muse,
Where the airy Manor house shows itself on the road.
Praiseworthy HOLENDREGT, what fame, what luster crowns
Your magnificent Garden-luck, with its rising pillars
And coats of arms? To declare the glory
Of LIBRETON, who enjoys the country-joy here,
And sees more pleasure and happiness in the lonely land,
Than the city bustle with all its splendor can ever give:
No greater happiness than to live contentedly on the land
Was ever granted by the Gods to the mortal generation,
For rest and peace, respected everywhere,
Amuse themselves most fondly by flowers, herbs, plants
And fresh trees, which spring makes blossom anew
On all sides from Vesta’s fertile lap.
Rightly, Mr. LIBRETON, are you invited here,
To see your pleasure on your HOLENDREGT,
Vertumnus A Roman god of the seasons and gardens. must always bear care for your pleasure-ground,
And with Pomona A Roman goddess of fruit trees and gardens. keep watch over it continuously,
So that your goal is always satisfied according to wish!
What is this? How! Do I arrive here at the pleasure-garden of Peace?
So is Unity, Love, and Fidelity here together
On the airy BINNEN-RUST. O Quartet! do you build your throne
And golden seat here in the royal beauty
Of the green Yews and neatly planted hedges?
Is BINNEN-RUST your pleasure, your joy in these days,
And do you live here together? O yes! For Mr. GOUSSET
Guards you zealously by the keeping of the law,
Which he gives to Abcoude, to keep wrongdoing in check;
The important Sheriff's office, praiseworthily performed by him,
Gives this land-adornment the name of BINNEN-RUST,
While Mr. GOUSSET everywhere extinguishes strife and discord,
To preserve peace through Astraea’s sword.
Who helps me explain the beautiful view of this garden?
Come great Huigens! Come strengthen me with your spirit,
Your Poetry-nymph has indeed been gladdened in the land before,
Where she now shines on Pindus top with bright rays,
Let your elevated spirit descend upon my Song-nymph,
So that I describe BINNEN-RUST according to its worth:
How the manor house shows off from the front and the side,
By the swarming green, to caress the sight,
Which goes out from the summerhouse to sprout in full space
Along the babbling crystalline, and the choice garden view.
Farewell, O BINNEN-RUST! My Song-nymph is obliged
To the village, which dares to trust Themis’ scales to your Lord,

Magnify your adornment through their particular beauty;
It seems every Pillar carries a crown on its top
To discover the honor of MEERLEVELT to the wanderer,
And draw all his attention to this garden-adornment,
So that he always rests in its cool shade,
And insatiably finds a new pleasure here,
Yes, is never moved to walk further.
Of REEKLINKHUIZEN, who possesses all these lovelinesses,
How can you ever tear yourself away from this garden
To undergo the troublesome city-bustle and work?
Stay, stay at MEERLEVELT, it will bear you joy:
But no, you know how to pair the useful with the pleasure,
Wherefore you often leave your country air,
However much everything there stands in its growth,
To watch over your interests in our Amstel city.
Thus MEERLEVELT must amuse you constantly, year by year,
As an example of how you pair the utility and the merry country-pleasure
Together, and it stretches out for everyone as a beacon
To live carefree on one’s own ground.
It becomes time, my Song-heroine, that we set out on our way
To YPENBURG, where the silvery Amstel streams,
Which full of joy receives the shadow of the trees,
And frolics along the green of the hedges and shrubs;
One sees the flat ground carry a magnificent summerhouse,
Which with its roof-work and four points lifts itself on high
Like to the heaven, and makes a beautiful display
In the middle of the green, which always seems to live,
To give the airy YPENBURG even more adornment,
Where it shows itself so grand and broad on every side.
My lowly Poetry-nymph prays that she may be excused,
If she cannot celebrate this place according to its worth.
The Triton, which adorns the small sea before the house,
Blows the praise of YPENBURG, and MOLENAAR’s virtue,
Who as Lord of the Manor often rejoices on this ground,
And finds his lust in the merry country-living.
Thus Maecenas A wealthy Roman patron of the arts. was driven to his gardens,
To, separated from the Roman state and splendor,
When the Universe was almost brought to the fall,
To crown the head of the Tiber with his treasures,
Freed from the court-bustle to live in solitude,
Well then, Mr. MOLENAAR, enjoy for a long time
The joy of YPENBURG! Long may your Garden bloom, in spite
Of the bitter discord, which can please no joy,
Enjoy here for a long time the pleasure of the sweet summer days,
When Aurora greets you with her morning hour,
While another Garden invites me on its ground,
Which lies next to you on the Amstel stream.
I approach the Foregate of the lovely LANG-VERZWÉGEN.
The Foregate, which boasts so proudly with Fence and walls,
Its round facade-glory so gloriously lifts above,
Decorated with body-work and with rising pillars,
Seems to explain to the Wanderer the beauty
OF LANG-VERZWÉGEN, which now sings nothing but glory,
Lifts its own state, and pushes through the clouds,
Yes, gives Fame constant material to mention its name.
Who will praise the manor house according to the requirement of beauty,
Which shows itself so magnificently on the carriage road?
O LANG-VERZWÉGEN, glory of the Amstel stream! If
It were free for me to depict you just by singing,
I would still wander in the beauty of your pleasure-garden,
Unless I possessed Theocritus’ brain and spirit,
Or that Apollo had taken me by the hand,
Just as he let Gallus tread on Helicon before,
How much more so now, since so many glories