LAMPS, lamps! Lamps everywhere! You wistful, gay, and burning eyes, You stars low-driven from the skies Down on the rainy air. You merchant eyes, that never tire Of spying out our little ways, Of summing up our little days In ledgerings of fire -- Inscrutable your nightly glance, Your lighting and your snuffing out, Your flicker through the windy rout, Guiding this mazy dance. O watchful, troubled gaze of gold, Protecting us upon our beats -- You piteous glamour of the streets, Youthless -- and never old! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE VAGABOND, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE CHURCHILL'S GRAVE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE CAPTIVE LION by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE by JOHN DONNE THE OLD LOBSTERMAN by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE |