| CITY of orgies, walks and joys! |
|
City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst
will one day make you illustrious, |
|
Not the pageants of you—not your shifting tableaux,
your spectacles, repay me; |
|
Not the interminable rows of your houses—nor the
ships at the wharves, |
|
Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright win-
dows, with goods in them; |
|
Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share
in the soiree or feast; |
|
Not those—but, as I pass, O Manhattan! your fre-
quent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, |
| Offering response to my own—these repay me; |
| Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me. |