@3The city is cutting a way, The gasmen are hunting a leak; They're putting down asphalt to-day, To change it for stone in a week. The builders are raising a wall, The wreckers are tearing one down, Enacting the drama of all Our changeable, turbulent town. For here is an edifice meant To stand for an eon or more; And there is a gospeler's tent, And there is a furniture-store. Our suburbs are under the plow, Our scaffolds are raw in the sun; We're drunk and disorderly now, BUT -- 'Twill be a great place when it's done!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 27. LOVE, AND NEVER FEAR by THOMAS CAMPION RIDDLE ON THE LETTER H (1) by CATHERINE MARIA FANSHAWE SPARKLING AND BRIGHT by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN THE ORACLES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN ITALY SWEET TOO! by JOHN KEATS TO A LADY: SHE REFUSING TO CONTINUE A DISPUTE WITH ME by MATTHEW PRIOR |