Well, little old Noisyville-on-the-Subway is good enough for
me. . . . Me for it from the rathskellers up. read more

Well, little old Noisyville-on-the-Subway is good enough for
me. . . . Me for it from the rathskellers up. Sixth Avenue is
the West now to me.

George Washington, with his right art upraised, sits his iron
horse at the lower corner of Union Square. . read more

George Washington, with his right art upraised, sits his iron
horse at the lower corner of Union Square. . . . Should the
General raise his left hand as he has raised his right, it would
point to a quarter of the city that forms a haven for the
oppressed and suppressed of foreign lands. In the cause of
national or personal freedom they have found refuge here, and the
patriot who made it for them sits his steed, overlooking their
district, while he listens through his left ear to vaudeville
that caricatures the posterity of the proteges.

You'd think New York people was all wise; but no, they can't get
a chance to learn. Every thing's read more

You'd think New York people was all wise; but no, they can't get
a chance to learn. Every thing's too compressed. Even the
hay-seeds are bailed hay-seeds. But what else can you expect
from a town that's shut off for the world by the ocean on one
side and New Jersey on the other?

They say life's what happens when you're busy making other plans. But sometimes in New York, life is what happens read more

They say life's what happens when you're busy making other plans. But sometimes in New York, life is what happens when you're waiting for a table.

A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.

A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.

One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years

One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years

Up in the heights of the evening skies I see my City of Cities
float
In sunset's golden read more

Up in the heights of the evening skies I see my City of Cities
float
In sunset's golden and crimson dyes: I look and a great joy
clutches my throat!
Plateau of roofs by canyons crossed: windows by thousands
fire-furled--
O gazing, how the heart is lost in the Deepest City in the World.

Just where the Treasury's marble front
Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations,--
Where Jews and Gentiles most read more

Just where the Treasury's marble front
Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations,--
Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont
To throng for trade and last quotations;
Where, hour, by hour, the rates of gold
Outrival, in the ears of people,
The quarter-chimes, serenely tolled
From Trinity's undaunted steeple.

Stream of the living world
Where dash the billows of strife!--
One plunge in the mighty torrent
read more

Stream of the living world
Where dash the billows of strife!--
One plunge in the mighty torrent
Is a year of tamer life!
City of glorious days,
Of hope, and labour and mirth,
With room and to spare, on thy splendid bays
For the ships of all the earth!