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🦋 There is no passage.
 In comments today at Making Light, fidelio links to a lovely poem by Paul Goodman, "The Weepers Tower in Amsterdam".
Oh many are the lovely northern rivers!
the Housatonic and Connecticut
and Charles and James and Thames and Roanoke
and the St. Lawrence and the Kennebec
and the Potomac and the sweet Delaware
and not of them the least the lordly Hudson;
and all of them have made the fortunes of
famous towns as arteries of trade,
but all of them flow down into the sea,
all of them flow down into the sea.
Today is the anniversary of Henry Hudson's voyage up the river that bears his name; on September 12th, 1609, he sailed as far north as Albany (had there been an Albany) looking for a shorter passage to India.
 Oh and look at that -- Goodman would be 100 years old just a few days ago now, he was born September 9, 1911.
posted evening of Monday, September 12th, 2011
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"Driver, what stream is it?" I asked, well knowing
it was our lordly Hudson hardly flowing.
"It is our lordly Hudson hardly flowing,"
he said, "under the green-grown cliffs."
Be still, heart! No one needs
your passionate suffrage to select this glory,
this is our lordly Hudson hardly flowing
under the green-grown cliffs.
"Driver, has this a peer in Europe or the East?"
"No, no!" he said. Home! Home!
Be quiet, heart! This is our lordly Hudson
and has no peer in Europe or the east.
This is our lordly Hudson hardly flowing
under the green-grown cliffs
and has no peer in Europe or the East.
Be quiet, heart! Home! Home!
posted evening of September 12th, 2011 by John Emerson
Excellent! I don't know much about Goodman beyond Growing Up Absurd -- looks like I should acquaint myself.
posted evening of September 12th, 2011 by Jeremy
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