Chicago

By John Grosvenor Wilson

On the shore of the Monarch of Lakes
Rise column, and dome, and spire,
And the light of the morning breaks
On the City of Wind and Fire!
With the speed of the wind uprisen,
With the strength of fire she stands,
And her fingers of iron imprison
The wealth of a world in her hands.

In her towers and turrets of stone
She is strong, and her walls of brick --
Yet her resolute builders have known
The day when the flame rolled thick
When fled as a dream was her glory
And round her the smoke-clouds curled,
And with wonder and weeping her story
Was writ in the heart of the world.

But the tokens and treasures of love
Came to her from all mankind,
With the smoke of the wrack yet above
They came, and the self-same wind
That rolled the fire over her beauty
Blew message of comfort and light,
And she rose from the dust to her duty,
Renewed and refreshed for the fight.

They are gone, the dark days of despair,
She is bright in her new-born fame,
And she filleth the wide world's air
With the glory and growth of her name.
About her the great States cluster,
That breathe in her nostrils life,
That clothe her with joy and luster
And strength for the giant strife.

Lo, from street, and from crowded mart,
The music of progress rings,
And her citizens, great of heart,
Are of commerce the lords and kings;
O, from her no years shall dissever
The well-won crown of the West,
For the light that endureth forever
Upon her doth rise and rest.

1883.