Poems (Schiller)/Cumberland street and high
CUMBERLAND STREET AND HIGH
Ho! all ye blithesome people, In the country and the town,Ye gents in search of hats or hose, Ye maids who want a new gown,Ye housewives ready to purchase Of fall goods a supply,Come to Sheller's store on the corner Of Cumberland street and High.
Come with your country produce, Come with your cash hard earned,For here is the place in all the town Where a bargain may be turned.The shelves are newly ladened With goods of the finest brand,And prices as fair and moderate As at any place in the land.
Prints of the neatest patterns, Alpacas of every grade,Merinos, poplins, and wool-delaines Of loveliest figure and shade.Divers kinds of muslins, Flannels heavy and warm,Velveteens and water-proof cloths To shield from the drenching storm.
Fine shawls, and a stock of notions Suited to every mind,Laces and fringe, and veils and gloves For the pleasing of womankind.For gentlemen, hats of the latest style, And shoes, and slippers, and boots,And cloths and cassimeres that will make Most charming and durable suits.
The heart of the thrifty housewife Must throb with joy anew,As she scans the store of good things That are opened to her view— Yards of the cheeriest carpets For the brightening of her rooms,Oil cloths heavy and richly made, And a splendid stock of brooms.
Loveliest sets of glassware And dishes to gladden the eye,Mount Joy flour, the very best Of any that you can buy.Syrups and sugars the finest, And rice from the southern fields.And coffee the richest flavored That the soil Brazilian yields.
Good, strong teas that have traveled From China many a mile,Chocolate, corn starch, farina, And spices from every isle.Nutmegs and cloves from Molucca, Ginger from Sierra Leone.Cinnamon bark from Ceylon, Allspice in the Indies grown.
Don't fret, though Jay Cooke has suspended, For there is a large supplyOf goods at the store on the corner Of Cumberland street and High.Then hasten from every hamlet, From Factory, Furnace and Mill,From Boston down by the mountains, On up to Baskinsville.
Come from Duncan's fair island— Now that a bridge, fine and new,Spans the song-famed waters On the Juniata blue.Come from the Tuscaroras, And from thrifty Shermansdale,From Fishing Creek, over the ridges, From Pisgah, and Wild Cat vale.
From beautiful Montabello, From Allen's picturesque cove,Come one by one if it please you, Or come in a merry drove. There are goods we've not mentioned, But you will find a supply,Of everything at the corner Of Cumberland street and High.