The World Is Wide

The world is wide-around yon court, Where dirty little children play, Another world of street on street Grows wide and wider every day. And round the town for endless miles A great strange land of green is spread- O wide the world, O weary-wide, But it is wider overhead. For could you mount yon glittering stairs And on their topmost turret stand,- Still endless shining courts and squares, And lanes of lamps on every hand. And, might you tread those starry streets To where those long perspectives bend, O you would cast you down and die- Street upon street, world without end.