ALONG the wet, gleaming footway, over wide and deep-echoing squares, They pass, the splendid magicians unknown to fame! They who by skill and will wove the robe that the city wears, Who cast round hovel and palace a gorgeous girdle of flame; Who set rows on rows of beacons to flare right and left on each street, Who made each window a golden square above; They wander homewards now, pale men on puny feet, Who have vanquished night through pain and joy and love. Yet these mighty magicians, whose deeds no epic skill Can narrate or describe, they are unwearied yet; Their muscles still move forward with ever-increasing will, New wires further to stretch, new lamps higher to set, New jewels to devise for the city of their dreams, That darkness and storm she may be ever yet defying: New forces to subdue, vast hidden lightning streams, To fashion toys from them, for man's desire undying. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIXTEEN MONTHS by CARL SANDBURG THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON MERCILES BEAUTE; A TRIPLE ROUNDEL: 2. REJECTION by GEOFFREY CHAUCER STRANGE MEETINGS: 1 by HAROLD MONRO THE FOURTH OF JULY by JOHN PIERPONT THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE GUERDON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |