ON a clear day in Paris, walking where A century ago red riot leapt Torrent-like down the streets, I was aware How, far on the horizon rim, there crept Pale, ominous clouds; and listening I heard Dim, unmistakable, a muttered word: The thunder's prelude and the tempest's threat. The hour was bright with sun and jest and song In the blithe Capital, and yet, and yet, The place was Paris and Men's woes are long; Sudden, for me, beneath that tranquil sky, The tragic tumbrils, hark! go rumbling by! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MENAGERIE by WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY PRAYER FOR A DREAM by JOHN C. ADLER THE MORAL FABLES: THE WOLF AND THE LAMB by AESOP BEAUTY OF NATURE by HENRY ALFORD A SPRAY OF HONEYSUCKLE by MARY EMILY NEELEY BRADLEY |