At night in the city when the far-off whistles blow I think of you, far-off in the dark and the night, And the old days come back of your young delight So long ago. I remember the evening we parted forever at last, The long, dim aisles of trees in the lamp-lit Park, The windy houses that huddled, chilly and dark, On the twilit Vast. And even the sound of the newsboy's voice in the street And a rattling car, in that moment of exquisite pain, Burned themselves like odors into my brain, Sharp and yet sweet. Because we knew it must be forever and aye, We would laugh, we said, to make it a little thing; I remember your voice, how your laugh had a curious ring Not wholly gay. The old dear way of moving your shoulders had— And when you had turned away for a little while, How you turned back with a last, brave ghost of a smile,— But not glad, not glad! At night in the city when the far-off whistles blow I think of you, far-off in the dark and the night; The arc-lamp out in the street flares dizzy and white, And the dawn comes slow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOOD GREAT MAN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE HUMAN IGNORANCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A SOUTHERN NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD WISCONSIN by CORA BLAKESLEE BEEBE THE FLOWER-GATHERERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MONODY TO THE SOUND OF ZITHERS by KAY BOYLE SONNET ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ by WILLIAM COWPER POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 2. THE FAMILY OF LOVE by GEORGE CRABBE |