The river boat had loitered down its way;
The ropes were coiled, the business for the day
Was done. The cruel noon closed down
And cupped the town.
Stray voices called across the blinding heat,
Then drifted off to shadowy retreat
Among the sheds.
The waters of the bay
Sucked away
In tepid swirls, as listless as the day.
Silence closed about me like a wall,
Final and obstinate as death.
Until I longed to break it with a call,
Or barter life for one deep, windy breath.

A mellow laugh came rippling
Across the stagnant air,

The rich man's son inherits lands,
—And piles of brick and stone, and gold,
And he inherits soft white hands,
—And tender flesh that fears the cold,
—Nor dares to wear a garment old;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

The rich man's son inherits cares;
—The bank may break, the factory burn,
A breath may burst his bubble shares,
—And soft white hands could hardly earn
—A living that would serve his turn;
A heritage, it seems to me,
One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

The rich man's son inherits wants,

We undid a button,
turned out the light,
and in that narrow bed
we built the great city—
water towers, cisterns,
hot asphalt roofs, parks,
septic tanks, arterial roads,
Canarsie, the intricate channels,
the seacoast, underwater mountains,
bluffs, islands, the next continent,
using only the palms of our hands
and the tips of our tongues, next
we made darkness itself, by then
it was time for dawn
and we closed our eyes
and counted to ourselves
until the sun rose
and we had to take it all to pieces
for there could be only one Brooklyn.

Prorogued on prorogation—damned rogues and whores!
Our pockets picked and we turned out of doors!
Have we our country plagued, our trust betrayed,
Giv'n polls, loans, subsidies, and royal aid,
Hearth money, imposts, and the lawyers' fees,
Ruined all trades, tormented all degrees,
Crush'd poor fanatics and broke through all laws
Of Magna Charta and the Good Old Cause,
to be thus fobbed at last?
Have we more millions giv'n in ten years' space
Than Norman bastard had and all his race,
Hurried up money bills 'gainst Dutch and French,

The preacher does better
When you are there;
'Tis hard to preach
To an empty chair.
But your chair is not empty
When you're away,
For Satan's imps
Are there that day!

They make faces
At the preacher's text.
And show the folks
Who are sitting next.
And show them how much
The church is down
And it is all because
You're out of town.

The God of Abraham praise
Who reigns enthroned above,
Ancient of everlasting days,
And God of love:
To him uplift your voice,
At whose supreme command
From earth we rise, and seek the joys
At his right hand.

Though nature's strength decay,
And earth and hell withstand,
To Canaan's bounds we urge our way
At his command.
The watery deep we pass,
With Jesus in our view;
And through the howling wilderness
Our way pursue.

The goodly land we see,
With peace and plenty blest;
A land of sacred liberty
And endless rest;

Praise the Lord for all the seasons,
Praise Him for the gentle spring,
Praise the Lord for glorious summer,
Birds and beasts and everything.
Praise the Lord Who sends the harvest,
Praise Him for the winter snows;
Praise the Lord, all ye who love Him,
Praise Him, for all things He knows.

The panther is like a leopard,
Except it hasn't been peppered.
Should you behold a panther crouch,
Prepare to say Ouch.
Better yet, if called by a panther,

Pain is a beckoning hand,
A voice that seems to say,
“This way!”

Pain is an opening window,
Wide wings that stretch to fly;
Beyond, the sky!

Pain is a light too near,
Blinded, I grope along—

O V all the birds upon the wing
Between the zunny showers o' spring,—
Vor all the lark, a-swingèn high,
Mid zing below a cloudless sky,
An' sparrows, clust'rèn roun' the bough,
Mid chatter to the men at plough,—
The blackbird, whisslèn in among
The boughs, do zing the gayest zong.

Vor we do hear the blackbird zing
His sweetest ditties in the spring,
When nippèn win's noo mwore do blow
Vrom northern skies, wi' sleet or snow,
But dreve light doust along between
The leäne-zide hedges, thick an' green;
An' zoo the blackbird in among