This country has been dipt in sentiment
As a fabric might be dipped in gorgeous dyes,
The hues of earth that mimic fiery skies,
Gold, azure, emerald, scarlet insolent,
Contrasting, or with cunning purpose blent,
To dazzle or to charm Barbaric eyes
That view the medley with a wild surprise,
And go in time to their own land content.

Tell not the laity. The vulgar pulse
That beats in all, beats with due vigor here.
Rome has her Main Street too, it would appear,
Though named from some earth shaker from Savoy,
Who hustled in his time and got results.
And then there is a Rotary Club! Oh Boy!