Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
To a New York Shop-Girl Dressed for SundayAnna Hempstead Branch
T
Down gay Broadway to meet her beau.
She spread abroad and took the street.
Superb, she smiled upon and did.
Preserve the perfume of their ways,
Adds splendor to their opening flower.
Must steal her prettiness and bloom.
That pleads a moment from her face.
She flaunts her glories while she may.
Snatching her gifts with both her hands.
That lags neglected in the dirt,
Who can condemn such happy feet!
Yet with the daring wiles of youth!
With such hauteur, beneath such hair!
Perhaps the men will find me fair!
Fluttered and foolish, proud, displayed,
Infinite pathos of parade!
The tinselled boa—forgive the taste!
Oh, the starved nights she gave for that,
And bartered bread to buy her hat!
And begs her woman’s heritage.
Insolent with the half surmise
We do not quite admire, I know
How foresight frowns on this vain show!
No grace in such frivolity.
To worship Beauty, hungry and cold!
Apostle to what things are best.
For his soul’s comfort find her good,
That are the prettiest things she knows.
Make no more perfect sacrifice.
She eats with them the bread and wine?
That madly sought the best they knew!
Close, close to yours. Ah, that is right.
One beauty shines for thee and me.
Whose hearts are hidden in God’s hand.
And all its fragile flowering.
Surely his angels lay their kiss.