NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

No. CXLV.-JUNE, 1862.-VOL. XXV.

ALIVE WITH THE TREAD OF FEET."

HE sunlight falls from the fair blue sky

THE

On buildings stately and grand and high,

Whose distant roofs seem to touch the clouds
That gaze below on the passing crowds.

Hung with laces and lawns so fine,

With silks and satins that shimmer and shine,
Shawls of Cashmere, and robes of wool
Wondrously woven, crowded full

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by Harper and Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.

Are the polished windows with all things rare.
From the costly cloth made of camel's-hair
To the plumes of the ostrich white as snow,
And the silky down of the marabou:

Purple clusters from Spanish vines;
Tropical fruits and luscious wines;
Jewels that sparkle, of every kind :-
Luminous pearls that the divers find
Down in the depths of the sea so blue,
Scintillant diamonds like drops of dew,
Wine-dark rubies and emeralds fine,
Milky opals that gleam and shine.
Like sullen fires through a pallid mist,
With the carven onyx and amethyst.

"Tis four o'clock, and the crowded street
Is all alive with the tread of feet;
Hither they come and thither they go,
Like a mighty river they ebb and flow,
With a rushing sound as of falling rain,
Or of wind that ripples the grassy plain.
The old and the young, the sad and the gay
Jostle each other on bright Broadway.
Hard-featured men with sinister faces,
Women adorned with jewels and laces,

There are men with beards and men who have none
Every condition under the sun :-

The man of fashion and indolent ease,

The sun-browned sailor from over the seas,

The cold, proud lady of stately mien,

The child who is sweeping the cross-way clean,
The whiskered fop with the vacuous stare,
The gambler standing outside his lair,
Innocent girlhood in contact with Shame
That purity shudders to think of or name :-
Hither they come and thither they go,
Like a mighty river they ebb and flow,
With a rushing sound as of falling rain,
Or of wind that ripples the grassy plain.

Hark! down the street there is something coming,
A mingling of fifes and noisy drumming;
With gleam of sabre and bayonet bright
That, glancing, flash in the warm sun's light;
Nearer they come with soldierly tread,
And the calm blue heavens high overhead
Ring with the shout of the clamorous throng,
As each solid column is marched along.

In her elegant carriage, dressed with care,
Sits the haughty Madame Millionaire.
A queen she looks as she rides in state,
And the strong-limbed horses seem elate
With the thought of the lady, fine and gay,
Who rides behind them on bright Broadway.
With their iron-clad hoofs the stones they spurn;
The folks on the sidewalk gaze, and turn
To gaze again as she passes by-
When lo! on the air breaks a piercing cry,

SITS A WOMAN, POORLY CLAD AND THIN."

And some one lifts from the cold, hard stones
A shapeless bundle of broken bones,
And they bear it off in a jolting cart,
'Mid the noise and din of the busy mart.-
On the pavement yonder, cold and bare,

At the further corner, over there

By the marble building lofty and grand,
Around whose windows the people stand
And stare at the costly show within,
Sits a woman, poorly clad and thin,
With hand outstretched and a pleading face
So wan and wasted that you may trace
Each separate bone through the shriveled skin,
And count them all from the brow to the chin.

Two hours have passed-from factories grim,
With windows smoky, dusty, and dim,
Through whose crusted panes the sunshine falls
On the grimy floors and the blackened walls,
Comes a sudden current of human life-
Mother and daughter, sister and wife-
Glad to escape from the heated rooms,
The whirring spindles and noisy looms,
From the squalid, narrow, and gloomy streets
Which the light of heaven but seldom greets,

COMES A SUDDEN CURRENT OF HUMAN LIFE."

"THE LIGHTS ARE LIT IN DWELLING AND S

From the fetid air they have breathed all day,
To the life and vigor of bright Broadway;
And on they pass with the hurrying crowd,
While swells the murmur prolonged and loud.

The lights are lit in dwelling and store;
In countless numbers, score upon score
Of those that crowded the brilliant mart
Are gone to their homes in the city's heart;
Yet the throng in the street seems hardly less
In the crush and tumult, hurry and press.

One! two! three! four!

Over the roofs of the city pour

The hollow notes of the deep-mouthed bells,
Louder and louder the chorus swells;
The engines rattle adown the street;
The pavement rings to the tread of feet;
The air is wild with the hoarse, loud ery
Of the panting firemen hurrying by.

Ten has sounded-that stroke is the last;
Painted shadows go flitting past,
The stages pause on their upward way,
To wait for those who are in at the play.

They are coming now, like a gath'ring tide,
From the glare and heat to the world outside.
And the women seem, in their evening dresses,
Made expressly for love's caresses.

Like a lovely vision they pass, and soon
Their voices sound in the gay saloon.

'Tis the dead of night, and silent and dark
Are the shadowy trees in the gloomy park.
And silent, too, is the beautiful street,
Save the watchman pacing his lonely beat.
The bundle of bones on the hospital bed
Moans, and tosses its restless head;
While the haughty Madame Millionaire
In her chamber, where the indolent air
Is heavy with perfume from fragrant urns,
And the waxen taper drowsily burns,
With the sumptuous curtains closely drawn,
Sleeps on her pillow of snowy lawn.

The hours go by, and the pale, wan light
Comes like a ghost to startle the night;
Far up on the buildings so grand and high,
That rear their forms to the morning sky,
On shaft and column and cornice bold
God writes his love in letters of gold.