Poor city man! I pity you, Deep in my heart, I really do. Hearing you say as you did today, "How tiresome to make small towns this way; A man might as well in prison stay, As to travel the country roads, @3I@1 say." Would you like better the city street, The hurrying throng with no thought at all For the men and women who toil and rush Hither and yon at the time-clock's call? Why, man! I woke at break of day, Hearing a lovely cardinal say, "Pretty -- pretty -- pretty, the day is fine, Wake up! Wake up! Oh, friend of mine, Thanks for the meal your hands have spread; Sunflower seeds are my daily bread." Trees are budding, tulips are up Out of snow-covered garden bed -- In a very short time their gorgeous bloom Will be a riot of color red. So let me travel the country way, Friendly trees lining the paths I stray, Leading to joys that are always new, Lovely green meadows and skies so blue; Poor city man, don't pity @3me@1, Your unseeing eyes need @3my@1 sympathy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH FOR A SOLDIER by DAVID IGNATOW DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 4. THE MOON'S ORCHESTRA by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE IMMORTALITY OF LOVE by ROBERT SOUTHEY HON. MR. SUCKLETHUMBKIN'S STORY: THE EXECUTION; A SPORTING ANECDOTE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM SONNET TO A FRIEND by BERNARD BARTON WARNING TO TROOPS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HIS NAME WAS KEKO by THEODORE BRIDGMAN |