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they have watered the street,
it shines in the glare of lamps,
cold,white lamps,
and lies
like a slow-moving river,
barred with silver and black.
cabs go down it,
one,
and then another.
between then i hear the shuffling of feet.
tramps doze on the window-ledges,
night-walkers pass along the side-walks.
the city is squalid and sinister,
with the silver-barred street in the midst,
slow-moving,
a river leading nowhere.
opposite my window,
the moon cuts,
clear and round,
through the plum-colored night.
she cannot light the city;
it is too bright.
it was white lamps,
and glitters coldly.
i stand in the window and watch the moon.
she is thin and lustreless,
but i love her.
i know the moon,
and this is an alien city.
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hog-butcher for the world,
tool-maker,stacker of wheat,
player with railroads and the nation's
freight-handler;
stormy,husky,brawling,
city of the big shoulders; they tell me you are wicked and i believe them,
for i have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
and they tell me you are crooked,and i answer,
yes,it is true i have seen the gunman kill and go free and kill again.
and they tell me you ate brutal and my reply is,
on the faces of woman and children i have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
and having answered so i turn once more to those who sneer at this my city,and i give them back the sneer and say to them:come and show me another city,with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job,here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;
fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
bareheaded,
shoveling,
wrecking,
planning,
building,
building, breaking, rebuilding,
under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
under the terrible burden if destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pules,and under his ribs the heart of the people,
laughing!laughing the stormy,husky,brawling laugher of youth;half-naked,sweating,proud to be hog-butcher,tool-maker,stacker of wheat,player with railroads,and fright-handler to the nation.
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