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

They greet me with their shine, and hold soul and sense
Caught up in their beauty and adornments.
From SEEVENHUIZEN, ah! excuse my weak capacity,
If I do not crown LANG-VERZWEGEN according to its worth,
So that I may greet POSTWYK with my poetry,
Where BOELEMA sees rest appear upon the land,
And the cares of the city vanish under the lovely green.
O POSTWYK! that appears so grandly in the square,
And is crowned on your roof with three spires,
As a sign that you, in your green garden paths,
Cause joy, love, and rest to live with one another,
Three heavenly gifts, which, by your loveliness,
Crown your beauty with a double majesty.
The airy courtyard gives a spacious view inward
Along the front courtyard of the garden, and tickles spirit and senses
Through the soothing rural pleasure that always adorns POSTWYK.
When Maja The Roman goddess of growth and spring. celebrates the happy feast of her high day
She descends upon POSTWYK with the most beautiful flowers,
Which Flora The Roman goddess of flowers and spring. can never name in her garden,
As a sign that this place takes the crown of the gardens,
And yields to no other along the Amstel’s water’s edge:
Bloom then, O POSTWYK! bloom to entertain BOELEMA,
So that your beauty and his Name remain triumphant,
As long as the Empress of the floods shall stand,
And bears the imperial crown of Prince Maximilian!
Now back toward BERGVLIET hastened with my songs,
Where Lord VAN SON is so often received with joy
By the leafy trees, and plant and flower and herb,
When Philomela A poetic reference to the nightingale. with her warbling sound
Greets the happy Spring, by the green of the spring leaves,
And although the hedge prevents me from seeing the inner ornaments,
The magnificent house promises here all beauty, even if it is hidden from the eye,
Unless the Lord of the Manor is pleased to share it with us,
When he comes to BERGVLIET to soothe his spirit.
I go further where BAEMBRUG invites me to rest,
My zeal finds itself indeed tired, but never extinguished,
Therefore the standstill shall give me new strength again.
I see the ancient goodness revive in this village,
Here is our Holland, still the Holland that it once was,
When love, virtue, and fidelity were united with each other,
And through simplicity never feared the traps
Of cunning, or clever deceit to rob someone of their existence,
Where through the Arrogance that now sits on the throne
One insults pure virtue of its crown,
Tramples on love, and seeks to tread fidelity underfoot,
Because the Money-god is served and worshipped.
O humble BAEMBRUG, the remembering of that state
Makes me value and love you much more than the wanton adornment
Of the proud cities, your low roofs are charming to my senses,
Because peace lives here with the simplicity
That always gives the heart rest and never gives remorse,
Because wantonness is driven from this ground:
The church, where the Holy Word remains living in eternity,
Irradiated by the white light, enlarges your majesty,
Because through it the way to heaven is prepared.
Farewell BAEMBRUG! farewell! as I approach ZORGVRY

But pleasure-seat, why do you have two lions watching here
At your entrance, would care A pun on the name Zorgvry, which literally means "Care-free". never meet you?
Is ZORGVRY still worried about disaster and adversity?
O Yes! no rural pleasure can determine our care,
But that we see you boasting with the name of ZORGVRY,
Is that VAN KASPEL escapes the care of the city here,
Whereby you are to him a paradise of rest.
O ZORGVRY, if I can observe you from the outside,
Your grandeur resembles the noble buildings
That Holland once carried upon its ground,
Though now they are demolished by the wretched cursed alliance
Of the Hook and Cod Historical factions in the medieval Netherlands. senseless war-servants,
When Willem dared to fight his Mother much too wickedly,
To place Holland’s noble gold upon his head,
But ZORGVRY, nothing of your adornment has been stolen from you,
Your luster still shines to the pleasure of VAN KASPEL,
On whom I wish that you may long bear your fame.
Now I see OVERDORP and step past the stable,
Where the horse rests and is fed, after he
Has finished the road for the service of his master,
He is happy who may always hope for rest,
When he has done his work according to his duty.
The wide garden gate lures my happy Song-nymph
To observe OVERDORP in my passing,
Where Lord DE KLERK can keep himself in safety,
When he satisfies his pleasure and wish in the country,
And steps toward the Amstel stream all cheering,
Or from the summer-house sees the rolling of the waves,
And sees boat after boat sailing to and fro,
Which increases his pleasure even more on Overdorp.
Farewell DE KLERK! I see that POELENSTYN my need
To repeat my song-lust in his shadow.
But POELENSTYN, if I try to portray your grandeur,
Then I follow the example of Icarus, who boldly
Flew too high, and thereby suffocated in the surging salt,
To give the sea a Name after his name.
I feel myself, however, driven by your beauty,
To report you in my cheerful Field-poem.
O POELENSTYN! how beautifully you reveal yourself to the sight,
Surrounded in a circle of high-topped trees?
Does the Garden-building seem to tame their height?
Through the rising roof-work, which lifts itself so broadly,
That it strikes the wanderer with much wonder,
When he comes to approach you along the hem of the Amstel:
BARON VAN LAWICK, here you can amuse yourself,
Whether in house or garden, as time requires you;
The cheerful Solitude, stripped of all deep feeling,
Gives the free spirit here a diversion of thoughts,
To observe the wonderful earth-growth closely,
Be it in herb, or flower, or soul-refreshing fruit,
Which promises a fresh taste to the eager mouth,
In which POELENSTYN must always be blessed,
To never fear accident or adversity!
Stand still! where am I going? what comes before me here?
It is DE PACIENTIE The Patience.! but dare I believe
My hearing, where is PACIENTIE to be found?
Where everyone wants to go forward as if moved by crazy winds,
To find the bullseye of his wish before the time?
The world had long since lost its PACIENTIE,
And would it reside here in silence by the Amstel?
So I praise this foundation as the choicest of the garden-buildings,
While PACIENTIE, that beloved bosom-friend
Of Reason and Peace, reigns here as Queen.
O Yes! PACIENTIE! yes! you live here as if forgotten,
The neat lattice-work has been measured by your hand,
Rightly divided by art, and perfected by much diligence,

The eye is as if enraptured when it approaches the Garden,
Through the magnificent front gate with its rising pillars,
Which comes to explain to us the power of PACIENTIE,
When it is united with time and art:
It overcomes everything, its power never falls short,
Whereby Lord AFESTOT finds his soul's pleasure here,
When he feels like joining in the rural pleasure,
And living in a fresh air, where the stream
Of the Amstel rustles and foams along its green hem,
Along which I go further to behold BASSENHOF.
The magnificent entrance can hold back my attention
From going further forward. Yet the garden-building, so beautiful
Enraptures me before I know it. O BASSENHOF, O crown
Of the country estates! who can name your beauty,
Who will praise your hedge, gate, and airy summer-house,
As it is worthy by majesty and standing?
I keep silent about the trees that cover you on all sides
Against sun and winds! be it in autumn or summer days,
So that no cold or frost comes to gnaw flower, or blossom,
But that you always bloom in a desired state,
When Lord DE BAS leaves the city bustle for you,
To give the exhausted spirit new lust here.
Long must then BASSENHOF live for the joy of DE BAS!
Now to the ME-RAAL where the airy Gate at the eye
Grants a free view: what pleasant presentation
Discovers itself in the green of the rippling leaves?
The eye meets no end, so it cannot be satiated
In all the loveliness, which the summer-house still increases,
When it invites Lord BAZOYN to the lovely view,
To see his pleasure along the Amstel stream.
O Airy Summer-house, where such sweet summer days
Give your landlord the most beautiful, pleasant sight,
The delicate neatness has founded you on this ground,
To serve the ME-RAAL as an ornament,
And to awaken Lord BAZOYN’S pleasure and joy.
There I see PADDENBURG, what a glorious country estate,
Which squarely lifts its crown in the midday light,
To invite the eye on all sides to the most beautiful sight,
The frolicking Amstel-nymph, with her water-gods,
Greets even this garden with happy festive sound,
Which the Echo whistles on the tip of the airy summer-house,
To please REYKS even more in the rural pleasure,
When he tastes the sweetness here of the sweet spring days.
I keep silent about the Garden-gate, which is so neat and full of splendor
Serves the garden for adornment, and protects day and night
Against wild Robbers, who live only on free-booting,
Until their lawful reward is given to them by Themis The Greek goddess of divine law and custom..
Farewell, O PADDENBURG! bloom for Lord REYKS’ pleasure,
Give him many more years of pleasant rest,
While I go to GYNWYK, to praise BRUYNINX’ name,
But, Garden-envoy, dare I name you in my songs,
Where you watch in Vienna for the salvation of the States,
And always makes the Netherlands indebted to you,
By connecting the Eagle and Lion in friendship?
O Yes, I praise you, for the rippling winds,
That float and flap through the high trees of GYNWYK,
Never give any other sound than BRUYNINX’ name. Come on
Then airy GYNWYK let us sing your glory.
Ah! could my weak voice penetrate through air and clouds
To the Danube stream, I would greet BRUYNINX himself
Like a pure Fame of the airy star-vault:
I would add his Glory to the praise of GYNWYK,
But the latter must now alone content my Singer.
Lovely pleasure-garden! I see your summer-house beautiful in standing,
Where lust lives, and sees the fertile land

Clothes itself Year after Year with greenery and fresh flowers;
The Aviary increases this garden’s majesties,
Where the lush feathered creatures warble the praise of GYNWYK,
And carefree fly and play among each other
To give BRUYNINX’ great Name an eternal honor.
By what longing is our Amstel-nymph driven,
To see him anew, to greet him at her shore
From his Embassy, and on GYNWYK’s free-born soil
Happily to dedicate to him all that the land ever gives.
O Amstel-nymph! your wish must please the Godhead,
So finds that brave Lord a heaven here on earth,
Up, up, my Song-heroine, you approach MIDDELVAART,
Which appears so flat and grandly from the front,
Rightly worthy to crown the fame of the Gardens,
The more so when Lady VAN DE CAPELLE, there
Enjoys the summer air, and gives half of the Year
To the airy rural pleasure, where the pleasant paths
Of MIDDELVAART give her a cool shadow,
Or that the orchard invites her first with its blossoms,
And through a happy fruit increases a cheerfulness,
Promising a rich harvest in the autumn season,
I must now, O MIDDELVAART, be snatched from your sight,
However reluctantly I go from you, but GYNWYKS calls me forward.
I see the magnificent Garden-gate, which charms everyone’s eye,
For the space of the open area, to forbid the entrance
One fears the hoof-beat surely lets slow feet continue,
And without the Garden-lord’s will to approach the garden,
One asks Lord WESSEL first respectfully for permission,
Or remains with me enraptured to behold the outside beauty,
Whether the neat building can hold your attention,
Or that the Summer-house invites you to its majesty,
Where the bubbling brook spreads its waves along its foot
To meet it for the second time in the bright crystal,
Or does the eye want to indulge its pleasure in the neat flower-bed,
It has a free view from the general road.
O GYSWYK! what art, what clever deliberation
Has designed you, to bring your fame to the top,
The blond Phoebus A name for Apollo, god of the sun., if he may descend here,
Forgot his Helicon The mountain of the Muses in Greek mythology. for GYNWYKS beautiful standing,
He raveled a Pindus A mountain in Greece sacred to the Muses. on the Amstel’s water’s edge,
Yes, drove the Peneus A river in Greece. and the Tempe A valley in Greece. from his senses,
To live here with the row of the Song-goddesses.
But Fate has determined him to the Thessalians,
When he draws his breath to the sound of the harp,
Yet GYSWYK shall everywhere nonetheless bloom with glory.
The sun begins to hasten to the western part,
It becomes time to go forward, before the night is made.
The KERKKROON whistles anew my Song-nymph, although she longs
To meet the airy Loenerfloot on her way:
But KEMMENA I must greet your beautiful pleasure-place,
Even in passing, where the square garden founded
Invites my eager Songstress to its perfect sight,
Which makes Envy itself ashamed to stop its slander:
Long must Lord KEMMENA amuse himself in this place!
While a new desire invites me to go forward.
The VELDHOEN, beautiful in standing, lures my Song-nymph,
Although she can observe very little of the garden-adornment,
Its magnificent building, pulled so high at the top,
Satisfies her attention, which she enjoys on the land,
Here lives Lord GLIMMER free from the pinching soul-sorrow,
Which the City and Exchange-bustle often comes to give untimely,
When a bad fate is driven hither:
But here, here lives peace and the pleasant rest.
Bloom long then VELDHOEN bloom for GLIMMERS joy and lust: