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At the Unveiling of his Statue, 1877
AMONG their graven shapes to whom | |
| Thy civic wreaths belong, | |
| O city of his love, make room | |
| For one whose gift was song. | |
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| In common ways, with common men, | 5 |
| He served his race and time | |
| As well as if his clerkly pen | |
| Had never danced to rhyme. | |
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| He toiled and sang; and year by year | |
| Men found their homes more sweet, | 10 |
| And through a tenderer atmosphere | |
| Looked down the brick-walled street. | |
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| The Greek’s wild onset Wall Street knew; | |
| The Red King walked Broadway; | |
| And Alnwick Castle’s roses blew | 15 |
| From Palisades to Bay. | |
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| Fair City by the Sea! upraise | |
| His veil with reverent hands; | |
| And mingle with thy own the praise | |
| And pride of other lands. | 20 |
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| O, stately stand thy palace walls, | |
| Thy tall ships ride the seas; | |
| To-day thy poet’s name recalls | |
| A prouder thought than these. | |
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| Not less thy pulse of trade shall beat, | 25 |
| Not less thy tall fleets swim, | |
| That shaded square and dusty street | |
| Are classic ground through him. | |
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| New hands the wires of song may sweep, | |
| New voices challenge fame; | 30 |
| But let no moss of years o’ercreep | |
| The lines of Halleck’s name. | |
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