|Collection||Kate Strong Historical Library|
|Scope & Content||
Poem written to WSM "To the Mount in Setauket"
I called upon Mount, of Setauket to day,
And found him an original (quite) in his way;-
He with pallet and brushes and colors can paint,
From a Long Island darkey or Irishman's saint,
From his nose
To his toes;
To an apple set up
On a real tin cup;
Or a landscape to nature so true you would swear,
Twas a landscape, instead of a picture, seen there.
He has risen through trials with cheerest of hearts,
Until now he is master of finest of arts;
And so now he is cheered by his wide spreading fame
And can jingle his dollars, (the richest if game)
But a wife,
To his life,
I do fancy would be
A good thing. But then he
Knows his own business better than me, I suppose,
And perchance, he may fear of a thorn in the rose!
With a heart that is open and ever is free,
May success to this Mount, in the land, or the sea,
Be his portion wherever his studio stands'
Should he roll his car onward to far away lands,
Or, in time
Should he rhyme,
Or, on leaving his easel,
May "pop goes the weasel",
May his life be a happy one, ever so long -
But I stop, Mr. Mount, and present you my song.
|Credit line||Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Beverly Tyler, 1983.|