| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | When Betsy Comes Down-Town | | By Louise Morgan Sill |
| | | WHEN Betsy comes down-town, | |
| From her remote suburban lair, | |
| There seems to blow a brighter air; | |
| The grimy streets seem debonair | |
| For touching of her gown; | 5 |
| And under muslin frills her feet, | |
| As tiny and as silvery fleet | |
| As some gazelle’s, go tapping sweet | |
| When Betsy comes down-town. | |
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| When Betsy comes down-town, | 10 |
| The musty volumes mountain-high, | |
| The shelves where dust and papers lie, | |
| Seem ill to suit a butterfly | |
| Fresh from the meadow brown— | |
| But when she goes a lingering light, | 15 |
| Reflection from the vision bright, | |
| Makes everything divinely right | |
| That seemed askew down-town. | | | | |
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