The lamps now glitter down the street; Faintly sound the falling feet; And the blue even slowly falls About the garden trees and walls. Now in the falling of the gloom The red fire paints the empty room: And warmly on the roof it looks, And flickers on the back of books. Armies march by tower and spire Of cities blazing, in the fire;-- Till as I gaze with staring eyes, The armies fall, the lustre dies. Then once again the glow returns; Again the phantom city burns; And down the red-hot valley, lo! The phantom armies marching go! Blinking embers, tell me true Where are those armies marching to, And what the burning city is That crumbles in your furnaces! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NEVER TOO LATE: THE PALMER'S ODE by ROBERT GREENE EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE BEGINNER by RUDYARD KIPLING LOCKSLEY HALL by ALFRED TENNYSON ECLOGUE: FATHER COME HWOME by WILLIAM BARNES PSALM 18. DILIGAM TE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE FIRST BOOK OF URIZEN by WILLIAM BLAKE PIANO TUNING by MARIANNE BORUCH THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: TO CORDELIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |