For many a golden year Shall gleam this silvery tie: The wondering world will gather here And gaze with gleaming eye. Philosophers will ponder How, blessed by the hand of Heaven, The world has another wonder To add to its famous seven; Philanthropists will linger To view the giant span, And point with grateful finger Where man has toiled for man; And all will bless the year When, in the May-month green, The King of the Western Hemisphere Was wed to the Island Queen! [5] Written on the occasion of the opening of the New York and Brooklyn Bridge. [_From Farmer Harrington's Calendar._] JULY 2, 18--. Wealth, wealth, wealth, wealth! with iron bars to defend it, And seventeen hundred thousand ways to spend it! How men will work, in home and foreign lands, To get a lot of money in their hands; How they will bar and bolt, by night and day, To keep some one from stealing it away; Then, when a fresh bait strikes their fancy's eye, How easy 'tis to make them let it fly! Lock up your cash in places howe'er strong, You lose it when the right thief comes along. There are some families that I could name, Who, spring and fall and winter, toil the same As boys with sleds for half an hour will climb, To ride back in about five minutes' time. These fam'lies pinched and starved nine months will be, To make a first-class show the other three; And some whose fortunes sprung up like a flame, Can puff it out even quicker than it came. These thoughts grew like June corn the other day, As I through Coney Island picked my way, And found there, pert and prosperous as could be, A land-and-water city by the sea; And people holding, in free easy style, A Fourth-of-July picnic all the while. Thousands were eating there amid the din, As though they'd hardly time to do it in; Thousands were loitering in the breezy air, As if they had a year or two to spare; And every trap that ever caught a dime, Was ready set and baited all the time!