Tell me, from the Common

Can you still see the light

Above the Little Building

On a warm spring night?

Does the gold still glisten

On the State House dome?

Do they still feed the pigeons?

Then Boston still is home.

Do they stand and read bulletins

In Newspaper Row?

Is Thompson's Spa open,

And do the boys still go?

Does the old man at Erlich's

Still carve a meerschaum pipe?

Are apples in the market

As rosy red and ripe?

And is Jenny still serving,

As once she used to do,

At the Union Oyster House

A Large Oyster Stew?

I'd rather be in Boston

Than anywhere on earth.

Think of me on Park street,

Have a beer at Jaky Wirth's.

Oh, take a walk up Tremont street

And say hello for me

To Boston, to Boston,

And -- write me all you see.