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CopvRiGHT 1883, by Mamie Luke. 
 
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 jV JUay Dream. 
 
 -BY- 
 
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 STAND upon the Bridge of Size that spans the broad East river, 
 Whose dancing waters sparkle bright as hot the sunbeams quiver- 
 (I'm in the shade of Gotham's tower) ! 
 I see proud Gotham stretching far across the Harlem waters, 
 Where coming millions may secure their homes in spacious quarters — 
 
 (May grasping landlords lose their power) ! 
 There, on Long Island, to the east, afar is Brooklyn reaching, 
 The city for its churches famed, and more so for its preaching — 
 
 (There, Beecher and the Talmage glitter) ! 
 In name two cities — one in fact, and by this Bridge united — 
 Both great, and greater much to be, unless untimely blighted — 
 The thought of their decay is bitter) ! 
 
A dream I have — not all a dream — of future growth and splendor 
 For Gotham, locomotive fast, and Brooklyn, too, her tender — 
 
 (Or mother, let me say, and daughter) ! 
 For miles and miles along the Sound— on either side I scan it — 
 Are serried lines and broad areas of solid brick and granite — 
 
 (How much it must have cost for mortar) ! 
 Far up along the Hudson's tide, from Sound to river spanning. 
 The giant Gotham proudly moves on Albany and Manning — 
 
 (Lives there, I think, a "boss" named thusly) ! 
 Her citizens are millions six, and more and more are coming. 
 And chief among the wealthy ones are those engaged in plumbing — 
 
 (Quite sure am I of stating justl}^ ! 
 But there are many solid ones — and some are arrant jokers — 
 Those ''bloated " most with lucre are her horny-handed brokers — 
 
 (Oh, for a " corner " cool and bracing) ! 
 And Brooklyn, with its many souls — three million and three-quarters — 
 Is moving on with strident step 'twixt Sound and river waters — 
 
 (A steamer yacht I'd like for racing) ! 
 And ships sail in and ships sail out, by scores, aye, hundreds daily, 
 A thousand ride within the bay, all decked with bunting gaily — 
 
 (Our flag is scarce, but England's isn't) ! 
 With masts the river shores are fringed — two forests loom, and proudly- 
 Beneath the weight of merchandise the piers are groaning loudly — 
 
 (Hyperbole, you think, but 'tisn't) ! 
 
The wheels of commerce whirl and roar — prosperity is driving-- 
 The merchants all are coining wealth, and every one is thriving — 
 
 (Unknown the fair, but false, trade dollar)! 
 But ah ! a change comes o'er my dream comes darkly o'er its spirit — 
 All somber looks the prospect now, no gleam of light to cheer it — 
 
 (Shall fate the cities thusly collar) ? 
 In sack-cloth lie the cities both, if not indeed in ashes, 
 All, all is gloom, and o'er the scene no ray of sunlight flashes — 
 
 (E'en Edison his light has hidden) ! 
 An exodus is going on, the multitudes are flying, 
 Rank grass is growing in the streets, and trade is dead or dying — 
 
 (Death on the pale horse here has ridden) ! 
 The masted forests blighted are, the ships and piers have rotted, 
 And with abandoned hulks the bay, for miles and miles, is dotted — 
 
 (My dream is o'er ; New York take warning) ! 
 What caused this woeful change to come — what blighted these proud cities ? 
 Well may you ask, and sad exclaim, "A thousand, thousand pities—" 
 
 (And Brooklyn, too ; no time for yawning) ! 
 The change was brought about by this : The people, wealthward jumping. 
 Their splendid harbor ruined, quite, b)^ offal therein dumping — 
 
 (Oh, shame, and double-headed pity) ! 
 Too long they fostered Apathy, a fell and deadly viper. 
 Danced while they shoaled their noble Bay, are paying Jtow the piper ! 
 
 (Thus passed the glory of our City) I 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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 015 762 664 4 
 
 POETICAL ADVERTISEMENTS 
 
 AND OTHER WRITING, 
 Address MAMIE LUKE, 
 
 Station W, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 (S" 
 
3V 3 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 762 664 4 
 
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