From the maddening crowd they stand apart, The maidens four and the Work of Art; And none might tell from sight alone In which had culture ripest grown, -- The Gotham Millions fair to see, The Philadelphia Pedigree, The Boston Mind of azure hue, Or the soulful Soul from Kalamazoo, -- For all loved Art in a seemly way, With an earnest soul and a capital A. . . . . . . Long they worshipped; but no one broke The sacred stillness, until up spoke The Western one from the nameless place, Who blushingly said: "What a lovely vace!" Over three faces a sad smile flew, And they edged away from Kalamazoo. But Gotham's haughty soul was stirred To crush the stranger with one small word Deftly hiding reproof in praise, She cries: "'T is, indeed, a lovely vaze!" But brief her unworthy triumph when The lofty one from the home of Penn, With the consciousness of two grand papas, Exclaims: "It is quite a lovely vahs!" And glances round with an anxious thrill, Awaiting the word of Beacon Hill. But the Boston maid smiles courteouslee, And gently murmurs: "Oh pardon me! "I did not catch your remark, because I was so entranced with that charming vaws!" Dies erit praegelida Sinistra quum Bostonia. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOTTLES AND THE WINE by GEORGE SANTAYANA TENEBRIS by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715 by ALEXANDER POPE ROCOCO by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE SPINNER by CLARA DOTY BATES |