A Tribute to Thirty-Second Street.
Just south of the heart of this Great Midwest Town,
Is the dearest little street I ever have known;
The homes are kept up with pride and care,
And the lawns with beautiful flowers rare;
Years have been many for some of us here,
On this little street that we all hold so dear.
Our children were wee things when we came out here,
But now all is changed; some are gone, some are near;
But our children’s children have come to bless;
It’s a gift from Heaven—such love to possess;
Were our children so sweet, so glad and so merry,
With cheeks like rose buds, and lips like the cherry.
The trees were but saplings, when we came out here,
From the Sun have protected us many a year,
And have grown up so high their branches meet,
And form a cathedral nave over the street;
And the birds in the mornings, their anthems to heav’n raise,
’Til you would think their throats would burst in their praise.
This little street lies between Main and McGee,
Out on Thirty-second. Do come, and see.
If I say that I love you, believe me, it’s true,
And so do the neighbors think a great deal of you.
When I have been away and return, then I see
You’re like an old sweetheart welcoming me.
You Greenhorn.
Vacation is over, school opens today;
Pleasures are laid aside, no time for play;
But your happy children, who the language know,
It makes it much easier to school to go.
When I was a child in the first primer class,
I knew not the language—was a shy little lass;
For we had only a few months before
Arrived in this country from cold Bergen’s shore.
I remember so well, the first day my ma took me
To school; how I trembled and blushed I still see.
The sweet lady teacher took me by the hand,
And said in a short time I would understand.
She patted my cheek; oh, how happy was I
To have found a friend—I wanted to cry
For happiness, only the world seemed so cold,
Although I was less than seven years old.