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Home  »  The Book of New York Verse  »  Louise Morgan Sill

Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.

Maiden Lane

Louise Morgan Sill

DOWN Maiden Lane, where clover grew,

Sweet-scented in the early air,

Where sparkling rills went shining through

Their grassy banks, so green, so fair,

Blithe little maids from Holland land

Went tripping, laughing each to each,

To bathe the flax, or spread a band

Of linen in the sun to bleach.

More than two centuries ago

They wore this path—a maiden’s lane—

Where now such waves of commerce flow

As never dazed a burgher’s brain.

Two hundred years ago and more

Those thrifty damsels, one by one,

With plump, round arms their linen bore

To dry in Mana-ha-ta’s sun.

But now! Behold the altered view;

No tender sward, no bubbling stream,

No laughter,—was it really true,

Or but the fancy of a dream?

Were these harsh walls a byway sweet,

This floor of stone a grassy plain?

Pray vanish, modern city street,

And let us stroll down Maiden Lane.