Give Me The Treble Of Thy Horns And Hoofs, The Ponderous Undertones Of 'Bus And Tram, A Garret And A Glimpse Across The Roofs Of Clouds Blown Eastward Over Notre Dame, The Glad-Eyed Streets And Radiant Gatherings Where I Drank Deep The Bliss Of Being Young, The Strife And Sweet Potential Flux Of Things I Sought Youth'S Dream Of Happiness Among! It Walks Here Aureoled With The City-Light, Forever Through The Myriad-Featured Mass Flaunting Not Far Its Fugitive Embrace, - Heard Sometimes In A Song Across The Night, Caught In A Perfume From The Crowds That Pass, And When Love Yields To Love Seen Face To Face.