Classic Poem

Long Island! yes! When first my vision swept
Thy far faint shores with inlet and lagoon
Or misty woodflats, where the senses swoon
As in that land where Christian sank and slept,
I thought of him; and then when in the rain
We reached the Inn; but when I heard them speak
Of Fire Place at hand, and Devil's Neck,
And Good Ground and Mount Sinai west away,
As in a dream I seemed to tread again
The Pilgrim's steps and trace the Heavenly Way!
But there sat Happy Jack, with dumb Rejoice,
Red Ike the hostler with his whistling voice,
And an old man I called Legality ...
Craftily quaint the tale he told to me.