What is it so transforms the boulevard? The lure of the passersby is not of the flesh; There are no movements; there are flowing rhythms And I have no need of eyes to see them there. The air I breathe is fresh with spirit-savour. Men are ideas that a mind sends forth. From them to me all flows, yet is internal; Cheek to cheek we lie across the distance, Space in communion binds us in one thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY BOOKS by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MAY by EDMUND SPENSER WITH MY CIGAR by JOHN CLINTON ANTHONY THE VIERZIDE CHAIRS by WILLIAM BARNES LINES WRITTEN ... ONE WHO HAD WATCHED .. AMERICAN & FRENCH REVOLUTIONS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES ON HIS ENGAGEMENT TO BE MARRIED by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |