SELECTION I
A CITY STREET
I love the woods, the fields, the streams,
The wild flowers fresh and sweet,
And yet I love no less than these
The crowded city street;
For haunts of men, where'er they be,
Awake my deepest sympathy.
I see within the city street
Life's most extreme estates;
The gorgeous domes of palaces;
The dismal prison gates;
The hearths by household virtues blest,
The dens that are the serpent's nest.
I see the rich man, proudly fed
And richly clothed, pass by;
I see the shivering, houseless wretch
With hunger in his eye;
For life's severest contrasts meet
Forever in the city street.
Hence is it that a city street
Can deepest thoughts impart,
For all its people, high and low,
Are kindred to my heart;
And with a yearning love I share
In all their joy, their pain, their care.
Mary Howitt.
Questions: Can you put this little poem in prose? Tell what you admire in nature. Then tell what you observe in the city. Tell about the rich and where they live. Also about the poor and how they are housed and clothed. Let us write a composition together.