| |
| WITH head erect and stately stride, | |
| In Broadway, on the western side, | |
| I marched, and viewed, in conscious pride, | |
| The splendours of New York. | |
| |
| What gorgeous domes confront the sky, | 5 |
| What proud hotels are soaring high, | |
| What windows lure the passers by, | |
| The strangers in New York! | |
| |
| All gems are there in sparkling showers, | |
| All trophies of barbaric powers, | 10 |
| And fabrics wrought for princely dowers, | |
| Are gathered in New York. | |
| |
| And pilgrims press with eager feet, | |
| And curious eyes with wonders meet | |
| In Broadway’s world-surpassing street, | 15 |
| The glory of New York. | |
| |
| Tall ships are in from many a shore, | |
| And streets and shops are running o’er, | |
| And lumbering drays can hold no more | |
| The transport of New York. | 20 |
| |
| I tried in vain to cross the street, | |
| Where whirling wheels cut off retreat, | |
| And clattering tramp of horses’ feet | |
| Announced the great New York. | |
| |
| I gazed upon the motley throng; | 25 |
| The ceaseless current surged along, | |
| And sinewy legs and elbows strong | |
| Went struggling through New York. | |
| |
| Saxons and Celts, and Greeks and Jews, | |
| Creoles, Italians and Hindoos, | 30 |
| Germans and Franks and Kickapoos, | |
| All crowded in New York. | |
| |
| I looked ahead and read the fates, | |
| I scanned the rise and fall of states, | |
| And saw the destiny that waits | 35 |
| The future of New York. | |
| |
| Not fifty years shall pass when she, | |
| Whose commerce floats on every sea, | |
| The world’s first banking-place shall be, | |
| Though then no more “New York.” | 40 |
| |
| Indignant voices shall proclaim, | |
| That she, the first in wealth and fame, | |
| No more shall wear the paltry name | |
| Of pitiful “New York.” | |
| |
| When old Æneas and his boy | 45 |
| From the mast-head cried “Rome, ahoy!” | |
| They did not call the place New Troy, | |
| Like fools that named New York. | |
| |
| When Moses led his wandering Jews | |
| To bathe their feet in Canaan’s dews, | 50 |
| They proved too wise to name and use | |
| New Egypt, like New York. | |
| |
| New Amsterdam, might fit the Dutch; | |
| But when the English got their clutch, | |
| Why need they coin another such | 55 |
| And dub the town “New York”? | |
| |
| I summon poets, one and all, | |
| Who help to spin this mundane ball, | |
| To rescue from degrading thrall | |
| The trodden-down New York. | 60 |
| |
| I call on patriots, fierce or tame, | |
| To wipe away this burning shame, | |
| And kick down hill, with one acclaim, | |
| Detestable “New York.” | |
| |
| Vast continents have changed their name; | 65 |
| Cities and ladies do the same, | |
| A part for pride and part for shame, | |
| Both which should move New York. | |
| |
| New Holland is Australia now; | |
| Toronto made one “York” to bow; | 70 |
| The late Miss Smith is Mrs. Howe; | |
| Why don’t you change New York? | |
| |
| A generous name sounds well in verse, | |
| A bad one is a clinging curse; | |
| I never heard nor dreamt a worse | 75 |
| Than pestilent “New York.” | |
| |
| I ask a bold, descriptive name, | |
| Of classic birth and faultless claim, | |
| To grow amid the growing fame | |
| Of what was once New York. | 80 |
| |
| Emporium shall that title be, | |
| The empire mart of earth and sea, | |
| The central city of the free; | |
| EMPORIUM,—not New York! | |
| |
