 | THE PITY OF THE PARK FOUNTAIN. The complete works of N.P. Willis |  |
THE PITY OF THE PARK FOUNTAIN.
'Twas a summery day in the last of May —
Pleasant in sun or shade;
And the hours went by as the poets say,
Fragrant and fair on their flowery way;
And a hearse crept slowly through Broadway;
And the Fountain gayly played.
The Fountain played right merrily,
And the world looked bright and gay;
And a youth went by, with a restless eye,
Whose heart was sick, and whose brain was dry,
And he prayed to God that he might die —
And the Fountain played away.
Uprose the spray like a diamond throne,
And the drops like music rang —
And of those who marvelled how it shone,
Was a proud man, left in his shame alone,
And he shut his teeth with a smothered groan,
And the Fountain sweetly sang.
And a rainbow spanned it changefully,
Like a bright ring broke in twain;
And the pale, fair girl, who stopped to see,
Was sick with the pangs of poverty —
And from hunger to guilt she chose to flee,
As the rainbow smiled again.
And all as gay, on another day,
The morning will have shone;
And at noon, unmarked, through bright Broadway,
A hearse will take its silent way;
And the bard who sings will have passed away —
And the Fountain will play on!
Pleasant in sun or shade;
And the hours went by as the poets say,
Fragrant and fair on their flowery way;
And a hearse crept slowly through Broadway;
And the Fountain gayly played.
The Fountain played right merrily,
And the world looked bright and gay;
And a youth went by, with a restless eye,
Whose heart was sick, and whose brain was dry,
And he prayed to God that he might die —
And the Fountain played away.
Uprose the spray like a diamond throne,
And the drops like music rang —
And of those who marvelled how it shone,
Was a proud man, left in his shame alone,
And he shut his teeth with a smothered groan,
And the Fountain sweetly sang.
And a rainbow spanned it changefully,
Like a bright ring broke in twain;
And the pale, fair girl, who stopped to see,
Was sick with the pangs of poverty —
And from hunger to guilt she chose to flee,
As the rainbow smiled again.
And all as gay, on another day,
The morning will have shone;
And at noon, unmarked, through bright Broadway,
A hearse will take its silent way;
And the bard who sings will have passed away —
And the Fountain will play on!
| THE PITY OF THE PARK FOUNTAIN. The complete works of N.P. Willis | |