Gay is the city—
  My joy is gone;
Man-crowded alleys—
 Why am I lone?

Iron and marble—
 I miss the sod;
Cloisters, cathedrals—
 Where is my God?

Flower-complexions—
 City-wrought art.
Bosoms are heaving—
 Where is a heart?

Falsehood unfettered,
 Truth under ban,
Man-heaps and brick-heaps—
 Lost is the man.

Beautiless virtue—
 Passionless sin—
Light on the surface—
 Darkness within.

Word is convention—
 Smile is but frown—
Heaven the field made—
 Who made the town?