Poetry

LINCOLN PARK.

Joaquin Miller


  • Unwalled it lies, and open as the sun
  • When God swings wide the dark doors of the East.
  • Oh, keep this one spot, still keep this one,
  • Where tramp or banker, laymen or high priest,
  • May equal meet before the face of God:
  • Yea, equals stand upon that common sod
  • Where they shall one day equals be
  • Beneath, for aye, and all eternity.