THE sun from the west glares back, And the sun from the watered track, And the sun from the sheets of glass, And the sun from each window-brass; Sun-mirrorings, too, brighten From show-cases beneath The laughing eyes and teeth Of ladies who rouge and whiten. And the same warm god explores Panels and chinks of doors; Problems with chymists' bottles Profound as Aristotle's He solves, and with good cause, Having been ere man was. Also he dazzles the pupils of one who walks west, A city-clerk, with eyesight not of the best, Who sees no escape to the very verge of his days From the rut of Oxford Street into open ways; And he goes along with head and eyes flagging forlorn, Empty of interest in things, and wondering why he was born. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOLUNTEER by HERBERT HENRY ASQUITH EPISTLE TO WILLIAM SIMPSON OF OCHILTREE by ROBERT BURNS SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY NEW FRIENDS AND OLD FRIENDS by JOSEPH PARRY MESSIAH; A SACRED ECLOGUE IN IMITATION OF VIRGIL'S POLLIO by ALEXANDER POPE THE FIELD MOUSE by WILLIAM SHARP IDYLLS OF THE KING: PELLEAS AND ETTARRE by ALFRED TENNYSON |