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| ON this day of brightest dawning, | |
| Underneath each spreading awning, | |
| Sheltered from the sun’s fierce ray, | |
| Come, and let us saunter gayly | |
| With the crowd whose footsteps, daily, | 5 |
| Wear the sidewalks of Broadway. | |
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| Leave the proof-sheets and the printer | |
| Till the duller days of winter, | |
| Till some dark December day; | |
| Better than your lucubrations | 10 |
| Are the vivid inspirations | |
| You can gather in Broadway! | |
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| Tell me not, in half-derision, | |
| Of your Boulevards Parisian, | |
| With their brilliant broad pavés, | 15 |
| Still for us the best is nearest, | |
| And the last love is the dearest, | |
| And the Queen of Streets—Broadway! | |
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| Here, beneath bewitching bonnets, | |
| Sparkle eyes to kindle sonnets, | 20 |
| Charms, each worth a lyric lay; | |
| Ah! what bright, untold romances | |
| Linger in the radiant glances | |
| Of the beauties of Broadway! | |
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| All the fairer, that so fleeting | 25 |
| Is the momentary meeting, | |
| That our footsteps may not stay; | |
| While, each passing form replacing, | |
| Swift the waves of life are chasing | |
| Down the channels of Broadway! | 30 |
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| Motley as the masqueraders | |
| Are the jostling promenaders, | |
| In their varied, strange display; | |
| Here an instant, only, blending, | |
| Whither are their footsteps tending | 35 |
| As they hasten through Broadway? | |
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| Some to garrets and to cellars, | |
| Crowded with unhappy dwellers; | |
| Some to mansions, rich and gay, | |
| Where the evening’s mirth and pleasure | 40 |
| Shall be fuller, in their measure, | |
| Than the turmoil of Broadway! | |
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| Yet were once our mortal vision | |
| Blest with quicker intuition, | |
| We should shudder with dismay | 45 |
| To behold what shapes are haunting | |
| Some, who seem most gayly flaunting | |
| On the sidewalks of Broadway! | |
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| For, beside the beggar cheerless, | |
| And the maiden gay and fearless, | 50 |
| And the old man worn and gray, | |
| Swift and viewless, waiting never, | |
| Still the Fates are gliding ever, | |
| Stern and silent, through Broadway! | |
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