John G. Saxe

I LOVE the city, and the city’s smoke;

The smell of gas; the dust of coal and coke;

The sound of bells, the tramp of hurrying feet;

The sight of pigs and Paphians in the street;

The jostling crowd, the never-ceasing noise

Of rattling coaches, and vociferous boys;

The cry of Fire and the exciting scene

Of heroes running with their mad “mersheen”;

Nay, now I think that I could even stand

The direful din of Barnum’s brazen band,

So much I long to see the town again!

Good-bye! I’m going by the evening train!