THE dust blows up and down Within the lonely town; Vague, hurrying, dumb, aloof, On sill and bough and roof. What cloudy shapes do fleet Along the parched street; Clerks, bishops, kings go by -- To-morrow so shall I! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INVOCATION by LOUIS UNTERMEYER ONLY WAITING by FRANCES LAUGHTON MACE THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE CONSOLATION by LEVI BISHOP LORD ROBERTS by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |