The speaker in Frank Oliver Call’s poem is walking through New York after composing a tune, and the whole city seems strange and frantic beside his quiet satisfaction. On Broadway he watches people rush and vanish into the Underground like startled rabbits, yet no one knows or cares about the small creative act that has made his day feel special. Lower down in the financial district, the crowd is obsessed with Bulls and Bears and money made from worthless shares. Some look thrilled, but their happiness depends on luck and gain. His happiness, by contrast, comes from simply having made something. The repeated line “I made a little song to-day” becomes a private refrain, separating him from the noise and greed around him. The mood is gently amused, slightly detached, and ultimately calm: creation gives him a joy the city cannot offer.
I Made a Little Song — Summary
I made a little song to-day, And then I wandered down Broadway, And saw the strange mad people run And dance about me in the sun, Or dive into the Underground Like rabbits frightened by the sound Of their own scampering through the grass; I watched a thousand people pass, But not a one did I hear say-- I made a little song to-day.
I made a little song to-day, It sang beside me all the way Until I reached the lower town, Where crowds went surging up and down. Their eyes were hard and faces white, But some of them looked glad and bright, Because the Bulls--or was it Bears?-- Had brought them gold for worthless shares; But I was happier than they;-- I made a little song to-day.