I 'OYEZ, oyez' ... I hear him cry About the streets to passers-by: No shrill-toned Arab on a tower More constant is when falls his hour Than this muezzin of the crowd Who rings amain — and calls aloud In accents clear and terse and thorough The annals of this ancient borough. II I think that if, perchance, to-day Along the cliffs that fringe the bay The roaring resurrection broke In trumpet blast and swirling smoke He'd stand and shout about the way 'Oyez, oyez' ... And lift his faithful bell and run To give the news to everyone. III And then, while all the streets and houses Rocked (like clubmen at carouses), He'd stand and watch, aloof, afar, The splendour of that mighty war Of sphere and planet that in thunder Crashed and flamed and surged as under: Till suddenly ... I see him well ... Lose his balance but keep his bell, And hurtle over the world's dim border Into the vat of that vast disorder ... And poor souls lost in the starless spaces Under the void where no sound flows Would feel a smile on their mirthless faces As John the Bellman downward goes ... John the Bellman rumbling down, Clanging his bell as if in town. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WITH BEST WISHES by DOROTHY PARKER HORACE TO LEUCONOE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA |