Poetry Lovers' Page
Poetry Lovers' Page:
featuring complete collections of poems by the following poets:
Rudyard Kipling
Edgar Allan Poe
Robert Louis Stevenson

You are here: Home » British/American Poets » Rudyard Kipling » Philadelphia


Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling

Philadelphia

             "Brother Square-Toes"--Rewards and Fairies.

If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning, You mustn't take my stories for a guide. There's little left, indeed, of the city you will read of, And all the folk I write about have died. Now few will understand if you mention Talleyrand, Or remember what his cunning and his skill did; And the cabmen at the wharf do not know Count Zinzendorf, Nor the Church in Philadelphia he builded. It is gone, gone, gone with lost Atlantis, (Never say I didn't give you warning). In Seventeen Ninety-three 'twas there for all to see, But it's not in Philadelphia this morning. If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning, You mustn't go by anything I've said. Bob Bicknell's Southern Stages have been laid aside for ages, But the Limited will take you there instead. Toby Hirte can't be seen at One Hundred and Eighteen North Second Street--no matter when you call; And I fear you'll search in vain for the wash-house down the lane Where Pharaoh played the fiddle at the ball. It is gone, gone, gone with Thebes the Golden, (Never say I didn't give you warning). In Seventeen Ninety-four 'twas a famous dancing floor-- But it's not in Philadelphia this morning. If you're off to Philadelphia in the morning, You must telegraph for rooms at some Hotel. You needn't try your luck at Epply's or "The Buck," Though the Father of his Country liked them well. It is not the slightest use to inquire for Adam Goos, Or to ask where Pastor Meder has removed--so You must treat as out of date the story I relate Of the Church in Philadelphia he loved so. He is gone, gone, gone with Martin Luther (Never say I didn't give you warning) In Seventeen Ninety-five he was, ( rest his soul! ) alive. But he's not in Philadelphia this morning. If you're off to Philadelphia this morning, And wish to prove the truth of what I say, I pledge my word you'll find the pleasant land behind Unaltered since Red Jacket rode that way. Still the pine-woods scent the noon; still the catbird sings his tune; Still autumn sets the maple-forest blazing; Still the grape-vine through the dusk flings her soul-compelling musk; Still the fire-flies in the corn make night amazing! They are there, there, there with Earth immortal ( Citizens, I give you friendly warning ). . The thins that truly last when men and times have passed, They are all in Pennsylvania this morning!


You are here: Home » British/American Poets » Rudyard Kipling » Philadelphia
x
By using our website, you agree to our cookie policy. Close
Poetry Lovers' Page
Poetry Lovers' Page is going through renovation. Please stay tuned for new and exciting features.
We are now dictionary-enabled. Try it: double-click on any word on this page, and then click on Definition