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I do not
sing of factories and mills,
Of thriving commerce, flung
from shore to shore;
I sing of homes and parks
that crown your hills,
Of flowers, fountains,
monuments and more;
Of noble eulogies in statues
shown,
Of virgin nature glorified
by art, --
The flights of fancy by old
masters known, --
That all unconscious, speak
a city's heart.
Not alone
by packing-plants and trade,
O Kansas City, I would have
you famed,
Your hills are beautiful in
sun and shade,
Your glens are beautiful by
art reclaimed;
By beauty's test your charm
shall never fail;
Heart of America! All hail!
All hail!
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