Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1921/Legend

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LEGEND
I wonder where it could of went to . . . I know I seen it just as plain:A beautiful, big fairy city Shinin' through the rain.
Rain, it was, not snow—in winter! Special-order April weatherTicklin' at our two faces Pressed up close together.
Not a single soul was near us Standin' out there on the bow;When we passed another ferry He says, sudden, "Now!"
Then I looked where he was pointin' . . . I seen a magic city rise . . .Gleamin' windows, like when fields is Full o' fireflies.
Towers and palaces up in the clouds, like . . . Real as real, but nice and blurred."Oh . . ." I starts in—but he whispers "Hush! Don't say a word!
"Don't look long, and don't ast questions; Elset you make the fairies sore . . .They won't let you even see it Never any more.
"Don't you try to ever go there . . . It's to dream of, not to find.Lovely things like that is always Mostly in your mind."
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Somethin' made me say, "It's Jersey!" Somethin' mean . . . He hollers, "Hell!Now you done it, sure as shootin' . . . Now you bust the spell!"
Sure enough, the towers and castles Went like lightnin' outa sight. . . .Nothin' there but filthy Jersey On a drizzly night.
Vanity FairJohn V. A. Weaver

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