|The Crescent City
Slow-sweeping from a bleak northwestern clime,
Where snowstorms beat and forests rise sublime,
Til, gathering strength, as southward rolls his course,
To Mexicana's Gulf descends his force;
And, rising near his disemboguing tide,
The Crescent City sits in queenly pride.
The spires ascend, a coronet on high,
Her gardens bloom with every floral dye;
Her thronging marts, a varied crowd display,
The merchant prince, the dame in rich array,
The wan-eyed beggar, the tradesman keen,
The brisk attorney, with his eager mien,
And sapient age, with tottering step and slow,
Walk side by side with youth in freshest glow.
The floating palace on the grand old stream,
The thundering iron horse impelled by steam,
Pour in her lap rich treasures from all lands,
As, Queen of Trade, the Crescent Empress stands!
-- From Crescent City Illustrated, 1873
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