Primavera; Central Park

STATUES and leaves and fountains and green grass:
Here is a richness undivined by Nero
And unrestricted to a privileged class;
You can row boats or bowl and be a hero,
Or loaf and watch the girls and sailors pass,
Or be a child and get up skating races,
Or lay your lose down in the shadowy places.
Here for the dispossessed are tender lawns,
Here for the kind are pigeons to be fed,
Here for the young is history stopped in bronze,
Here for the old is sunlight on the head.
Here for the dreamy sort are lyric swans,
Here for the shy is somewhere to retreat,
Here for the bold, somebody new to meet.
Staluos and grass and fountains and green trees:
Buds to be sniffed at, vistas for the eye,
Air to stretch up in, earth to cup the knees,
People to talk to, privacy to cry.
Fountains and grass and statues and green trees:
If you are loved, a graciousness to lie in,
If you are not, a spaciousness to sigh in.