THE CITY.

I own the charms of lovely Nature; still,

In human nature more delight I find.

Though sweet the murmuring voices of the rill,

I much prefer the voices of my kind.

I like the roar of cities. In the mart,

Where busy toilers strive for place and gain,

I seem to read humanity’ s great heart,

And share its hopes, its pleasures, and its pain.

The rush of hurrying trains that cannot wait,

The tread of myriad feet, all say to me:

“You are the architect of your own fate;

Toil on, hope on, and dare to do and be.”

I like the jangled music of the loud

Bold bells; the whistle’ s sudden shrill reply;

And there is inspiration in a crowd —

A magnetism flashed from eye to eye.

My sorrows all seem lightened and my joys

Augmented when the comrade world walks near;

Close to mankind my soul best keeps its poise.

Give me the great town’ s bustle, strife, and noise

And let who will, hold Nature’ s calm more dear.