Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
The Pity of the Park FountainNathaniel P. Willis
’T
Pleasant in sun or shade;
And the hours went by, as the poets say,
Fragrant and fair in their flowery way;
And a hearse crept slowly through Broadway—
And the Fountain gaily play’d.
And the world look’d 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 play’d away.
And the drops like music rang—
And of those who marvell’d how it shone,
Was a proud man, left, in his shame, alone;
And he shut his teeth with a smother’d groan—
And the Fountain sweetly sang.
Like a bright ring broke in twain;
And the pale, fair girl who stopp’d to see,
Was sick with the pangs of poverty—
And from hunger to guilt she chose to flee
As the rainbow smiled again.
The morning will have shone;
And as little mark’d, in bright Broadway,
A hearse will glide among busy and gay,
And the bard who sings will have pass’d away—
And the Fountain will play on!