A SOMETHING quiet and subdued In all the faces that we meet; A sense of rest, a solitude O'er all the crowded street; The very noises seem to be Crude utterings of harmony, And all we hear, and all we see, Has in it something sweet. Thoughts come to us as from a dream Of some long-vanished yesterday; The voices of the children seem Like ours, when young as they; The hand of Charity extends To meet Misfortune's, where it blends, Veiled by the dusk -- and oh, my friends, Would it were dusk alway! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY IN BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE |