THE sun has gone, and from the ferryboat That like a golden worm crawls through the night, I watch the myriad stars that round me float, And, cityward, the honeycombs of light. Tier after tier, they blossom in the dark, Miraculously radiant, while I Think of the toilers bent beneath each spark, And breathe a little prayer for them, and sigh. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MARY IN HEAVEN by ROBERT BURNS THE POET AND HIS SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONGS OF TRAVEL: 16 by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ON READING THE 'RUBAIYAT' OF OMAR KHAYYAM IN A KENTISH ROSE GARDEN by MATHILDE BLIND RETRIBUTION by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPITAPH ON AN INFANT (1) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TO CUPID, A FOOLISH POET, OCCASION'D BY AS FOOLISH A POEM OF HIS ... by CHARLES COTTON |