City of orgies, walks and joys,City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day makeNot the pageants of you, not your shifting tableaus, yourspectacles, repay me,Not the interminable rows of your houses, nor the ships at the wharves,Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows withgoods in them,Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in the soireeor feast;Not those, but as I pass O Manhattan, your frequent and
Offering response to my own--these repay me,
Lovers, continual lovers,
only repay me.
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