Old Hudson Rovers Send us back the olden knights, tell no law to track 'em, Give to boy and maid the storytellers as of yore, Millionaires in legend-wealth, though no bank would back 'em, But old Benny Havens by the West Point Shore.

Off with lazy vagabonds, social ghosts that shiver, Give to worthy road-men the great green way, And we'll hear a song again up the Hudson river, Ringing from a drifting raft, set in silver spray.