You know that oasis, fresh and fair <br />In the city desert, as Greeley square? <br /> <br />That bright triangle of scented bloom <br />That lies surrounded by grime and gloom? <br /> <br />Right in the breast of the seething town <br />Like a gleaming gem or a wanton’s gown? <br /> <br />Ah, wonderful things that tulip bed <br />Unto my listening soul has said. <br /> <br />Over the rattle and roar of the street <br />I hear a chorus of voices sweet, <br /> <br />Day and night, when I pass that way, <br />And these are the things the voices say: <br /> <br />“Here, in the heart of the foolish strife, <br />We live a simple and natural life. <br /> <br />“Here, in the midst of the clash and din, <br />We know what it is to be calm within. <br /> <br />“Here, environed by sin and shame, <br />We do what we can with our pure white flame. <br /> <br />“We do what we can with our bloom and grace, <br />To make the city a fairer place. <br /> <br />“It is well to be good though the world is vile, <br />And so through the dust and the smoke we smile, <br /> <br />“We are but atoms in chaos tossed, <br />Yet never a purpose for truth was lost.” <br /> <br />Ah, many a sermon is uttered there <br />By the bed of blossoms in Greeley square. <br /> <br />And he who listens and hears aright, <br />Is better equipped for the world’s hard fight.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-tulip-bed-at-greeley-square/
