Not for that city of the level sun, Its golden streets and glittering gates ablaze- The shadeless, sleepless city of white days, White nights, or nights and days that are as one- We weary, when all is said , all thought, all done. We strain our eyes beyond this dusk to see What, from the threshold of eternity We shall step into. No, I think we shun The splendour of that everlasting glare, The clamour of that never-ending song. And if for anything we greatly long, It is for some remote and quiet stair Which winds to silence and a space for sleep Too sound for waking and for dreams too deep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SONNETS by RICHARD WILBUR YOU KNOW WHAT PEOPLE SAY by JAMES GALVIN TO ATLANTA UNIVERSITY - ITS FOUNDERS AND TEACHERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WALL STREET PIT, MAY, 1901 by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOSEPH DIXON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |