Night in the Suburbs, August, 1914
THE misty night broods o'er this peopled place,
Chimneys and trees stand black against the sky,
One goes belated by with echoing pace
And careless whistle, shrilling loud and high.
Chimneys and trees stand black against the sky,
One goes belated by with echoing pace
And careless whistle, shrilling loud and high.
And ere his steps into the stillness merge
Some labouring giant of our later day
Passes with hollow roar of distant surge
And clouds of steam as white as ocean spray.
Some labouring giant of our later day
Passes with hollow roar of distant surge
And clouds of steam as white as ocean spray.
In turn the lighted windows, twinkling fair,
Darken, till all these earthborn stars are down;
Stained dusky red by the great city's glare
The waning moon hangs low o'er London Town.
Darken, till all these earthborn stars are down;
Stained dusky red by the great city's glare
The waning moon hangs low o'er London Town.
E'en now that moon in her own silver guise
Looks down on some stretched on a stricken plain,
Yet she shows red unto their blood-dimmed eyes
That never shall behold the sun again.
Looks down on some stretched on a stricken plain,
Yet she shows red unto their blood-dimmed eyes
That never shall behold the sun again.
We, weary of the idle watch we keep,
Turn from the window to our sure repose
And pass into the pleasant realms of sleep,
Or snug and drowsy muse upon their woes.
Turn from the window to our sure repose
And pass into the pleasant realms of sleep,
Or snug and drowsy muse upon their woes.
9
