| Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912. |
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| Henry Cuyler Bunner. 1855–1896 |
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| 237. Wed |
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| FOR these white arms about my neck— | |
| For the dainty room, with its ordered grace— | |
| For my snowy linen without a fleck— | |
| For the tender charm of this uplift face— | |
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| For the softened light and the homelike air— | 5 |
| The low luxurious cannel fire— | |
| The padded ease of my chosen chair— | |
| The devoted love that discounts desire— | |
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| I sometimes think, when Twelve is struck | |
| By the clock on the mantel, tinkling clear, | 10 |
| I would take—and thank the gods for the luck— | |
| One single hour with the boys and the beer. | |
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| Where the sawdust scent of a cheap saloon | |
| Is mingled with malt; where each man smokes, | |
| Where they sing the street songs out of tune, | 15 |
| Talk Art, and bandy ephemeral jokes. | |
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| By Jove, I do! And all the time | |
| I know not a man that is there to-night | |
| But would barter his brains to be where I 'm— | |
| And I 'm well aware that the beggars are right. | 20 |
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