THE Thames nocturne of blue and gold <br /> Changed to a Harmony in grey: <br /> A barge with ochre-coloured hay <br /> Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold <br /> <br /> The yellow fog came creeping down <br /> The bridges, till the houses' walls <br /> Seemed changed to shadows, and S. Paul's <br /> Loomed like a bubble o'er the town. <br /> <br /> Then suddenly arose the clang <br /> Of waking life; the streets were stirred <br /> With country waggons: and a bird <br /> Flew to the glistening roofs and sang. <br /> <br /> But one pale woman all alone, <br /> The daylight kissing her wan hair, <br /> Loitered beneath the gas lamps' flare, <br /> With lips of flame and heart of stone.<br /><br />Oscar Wilde<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/impression-du-matin/
