THERE was a man who watched the river flow Past the huge town, one gray November day. Round him in narrow high-piled streets at play The boys made merry as they saw him go, Murmuring half-loud, with eyes upon the stream, The immortal screed he held within his hand. For he was walking in an April land With Faust and Helen. Shadowy as a dream Was the prose-world, the river and the town. Wild joy possessed him; through enchanted skies He saw the cranes of Ibycus swoop down. He closed the page, he lifted up his eyes, Lo -- a black line of birds on wavering thread Bore him the greetings of the deathless dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REMEMBERED WOMEN by CARL SANDBURG THE YANKEE'S RETURN FROM CAMP [JUNE, 1775] by EDWARD BANGS THE FLOWER OF BEAUTY by GEORGE DARLEY LOST THREADS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LETHE by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN QUEEN ANNELIDA AND FALSE ARCITE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER MARI MAGNO; OR TALES ON BOARD: THE LAWYER'S SECOND TALE; CHRISTIAN by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |