Some say that phantoms haunt those shadowy streets, And mingle freely there with sparse mankind; And tell of ancient woes and black defeats, And murmur mysteries in the grave enshrined: But others think them visions of illusion, Or even men gone far in self-confusion; No man there being wholly sane in mind. And yet a man who raves, however mad, Who bares his heart and tells of his own fall, Reserves some inmost secret good or bad: The phantoms have no reticence at all: The nudity of flesh will blush though tameless The extreme nudity of bone grins shameless, The unsexed skeleton mocks shroud and pall. I have seen phantoms there that were as men And men that were as phantoms flit and roam; Marked shapes that were not living to my ken, Caught breathings acrid as with Dead Sea foam: The City rests for man so weird and awful, That his intrusion there might seem unlawful, And phantoms there may have their proper home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WALT WHITMAN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, ABSENT UPON PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT by ANNE BRADSTREET ELEGY: 11. THE BRACELET; UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESS'S CHAIN by JOHN DONNE |