Call the cab, boy ! do not dally !1
I am booted, and would ride ;2
He who lingers lengthens sorrow,3
He who lags may lose the tide.4
I have vowed to nurse no weeping,5
And to cast dear loves behind,6
Forward on the wave of venture,7
With fall sail spread to the wind.8
There you have it ! Now we rattle9
Through the whirls of social strife,10
Through the proud palatial city,11
Through a wilderness of life,12
Through the rich untutored grandeur13
Of the strangely shifting scene,14
Through the free unpruned luxuriance15
Of the lofty and the mean ;16
’Neath the pride of tower and turret,17
Public hall and princely home,18
Arch on arch of stately splendour,19
Mounting spire and floating dome ;20
Past the Tower, the grim recorder21
Of stern deeds in days of yore,22
To the long dark lines of wharfage,23
Where the merchant piles his store.24
Here the Titan courier waits me25
Panting with the prisoned steam,26
O’er the vasty swell to bear me27
Of the girdling ocean stream.28
I have fled from splendid service,29
With mine own free self to dwell ;30
Mighty growth of men and money,31
Wondrous London, fare thee well !32