GREY city by the silver Meuse, I fling One precious day to thee of my brief days; Take it, and give remembrance: Mellow praise Of chimes across a moonlit evening, Rain of light echoes; the full, wavy swing Of burdened barges down thy waterways— Noise nearest music; the blue, holy haze And perfume of old altars; wing on wing Of iridescent doves descending soft Within a Gothic gate where one strews bread For alms to the air's beggars; beyond her, Arcades recessive, pinnacles aloft, November's vista deepening to one blur Of blue-and-grey behind her upturned head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PLANTATION BACCHANAL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR |