| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | On Cedar Street, New York | | By Helen Hay Whitney |
| | | I, WHOSE totem was a tree | |
| In the days when earth was new, | |
| Joyous leafy ancestry | |
| Known of twilight and of dew, | |
| Now within this iron wall | 5 |
| Slave of tasks that irk the soul, | |
| To my parents send one call— | |
| That they give me of their dole. | |
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| Thro’ the roar of alien sound | |
| Grimy noise of work-a-day, | 10 |
| Secretly a voice, half drowned, | |
| Whispers thro’ the evening’s grey, | |
| “Child, we know the path you tread, | |
| Ghost and manes, we are true: | |
| Cedar spirits, long since dead, | 15 |
| Calm and sweet abide with you.” | | | | |
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