Down in the village, warmed by the sun,
    the happy people play.
They speak their pieces, every one,
    'til each has had his say.

"Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax
    of cabbages and kings."
Of arts, crafts, theatre, liquor-tax,
    of pornographic things!

While uptown, where there is no light,
    they work and save and cry.
Yet, on subways, going home at night,
    their eyes are always dry!