Ho! city of the gay!
Paris! what festal rite
Doth call thy thronging million forth,
All eager for the sight?
Thy soldiers line the streets
In fixed and stern array,
With buckled helm and bayonet,
As on the battle-day.
By square, and fountain side,
Heads in dense masses rise,
And tower and battlement and...
Break forth, break forth, O Sudbury town,
And bid your yards be gay
Up all your gusty streets and down,
For Lydia comes to-day!
I hear it on the wharves below;
And if I buy or sell,
The good folk as they churchward go
Have only this to tell.
My mother, just for love of her,
Unlocks her carvëd drawers;...
SLEEP, dearest, long and sweet,
With smile upon thy brow,
Thy restless, tottering feet,
Are surely weary now,
Trotting about all day
Upon the nursery-floor,
Or happier still to play
Among the wild flowers gay
Beside thy father's door.
...
