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 As I went walking up and down to take the evening air,
 * (Sweet to meet upon the street, why must I be so shy?)

I saw him lay his hand upon her torn black hair;
 * ("Little dirty Latin child, let the lady by!")

The women squatting on the stoops were slovenly and fat,
 * (Lay me out in organdie, lay me out in lawn!)

And everywhere I stepped there was a baby or a cat;
 * (Lord, God in Heaven, will it never be dawn?)

The fruit-carts and clam-carts were ribald as a fair,
 * (Pink nets and wet shells trodden under heel)

She had haggled from the fruit-man of his rotting ware;
 * (I shall never get to sleep, the way I feel!)

He walked like a king through the filth and the clutter, 6