Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1895 edition. Excerpt: ... I t ) ACK in the noisy, man-made town, Walls high and blank, smoke-fouled and brown, A factory whose clattering wheels With rattling speed are crazed and hot, Where life its best and worst reveals, Where money is and man is not--There was but little to impart Content to Conrad's harrassed heart. He missed the ocean, missed the hills, Woods, meadows, vales and romping rills. II A man within the city pent, Whose mornings, noons and nights are spent As if in prison serving time To expiate some flagrant crime, 9 129 Is blind to nature's changing scene, Earth, sky, and clouds that intervene, And all the rich and floral blooms That dress the fields and breathe perfumes. His landscape is the dusty street, The back yard is his cool retreat, His trees are poles with wires strung, His birds are poultry, old and young, His bower where twilight lovers hide Is in an alley five feet wide, His charming rest in shaded gullies Is under awnings worked with pulleys, His brook, whose waters leap and sputter, Is found in every city gutter, And all his wide and open heaven Is in a room ten feet by seven. There in the country prospects fair, Here in the city smudgy air; There, grand old hills that prop the sky, Here, buildings thirteen stories high; There, purling streams that sing and prattle, Here, draymen's carts that jolt and rattle; There nature's hues of green and gold, Here, whitewash, stucco, paint and mould; There, growing shrubs with blossoms bright, Here, iron lamp-posts bolt upright; There, waving tops of elm and oak, Here, chimney tops begrimed with smoke; There, gurgling fountains on the lawn, Here, draughts from rusty faucets drawn; There, bird-songs heard on mossy banks, Here, music played by organ cranks; There, odors of the pink and..."
