THE BOSTONEVENING TRANSCRIPT
Thereaders of theBoston Evening TranscriptThe readers of theBoston Evening TranscriptSway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.When evening quickens faintly in the street,Wakening the appetites of life in someAnd to others bringing theBoston Evening Transcript,I mount the stairs and ring the bell, turningWearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,If the street were time and he at the end of the street,And I say, “Cousin Harriet, here is theBoston Evening Transcript.”
Thereaders of theBoston Evening TranscriptThe readers of theBoston Evening TranscriptSway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.When evening quickens faintly in the street,Wakening the appetites of life in someAnd to others bringing theBoston Evening Transcript,I mount the stairs and ring the bell, turningWearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,If the street were time and he at the end of the street,And I say, “Cousin Harriet, here is theBoston Evening Transcript.”
Thereaders of theBoston Evening TranscriptThe readers of theBoston Evening TranscriptSway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.
Thereaders of theBoston Evening Transcript
The readers of theBoston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.
When evening quickens faintly in the street,Wakening the appetites of life in someAnd to others bringing theBoston Evening Transcript,I mount the stairs and ring the bell, turningWearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,If the street were time and he at the end of the street,And I say, “Cousin Harriet, here is theBoston Evening Transcript.”
When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing theBoston Evening Transcript,
I mount the stairs and ring the bell, turning
Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end of the street,
And I say, “Cousin Harriet, here is theBoston Evening Transcript.”