O, thou jaundiced city sunk in ruin deep Golden bricks from red Brought you but sickness instead. Pavements buried under dirt uneasy sleep Where the parkways broad Are by neglect now made sod. Lonely tree which grew from fallen catkins there Carried by the wind Once was with white-cotton skinned. Where foundations gather water from the air Breaking through the floors Pushing down walls, crushing doors. On a limb thereof a solitary nest Pouch of woven thatch 'gainst it a rain is no match. Wind in squalls and blusters puts it to the test But it sits at ease As if unbothered by breeze. Though tis not the season for the sunrise bird Still we watch her seat If by some chance we may meet. Jaundiced city, listen for that whistled word As the sight of her Is by the legend your cure.
The following music may be used for stanzas, note that the third lines, which are dactyls, line up with triplets.
Author’s note: Regular posting will continue next week in the new year. That is, M-W-F poems around 9am. The legend concerning Orioles curing jaundice (the yellowing of the skin, usually caused by liver dysfunction) really only applies to old world Orioles, which are not directly related to the Baltimore Oriole. The claimed etymology of orioleus is “aureoleus” (gold-color), but I have chosen to make it orieleus, from “oriens”, sunrise (east), meaning “sunrise-color”.