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 windows, 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 frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, | |
Offering response to my own—these repay me; | |
Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me. |
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