In the dense entangled street, <br />Where the web of Trade is weaving, <br />Forms unknown in crowds I meet <br />Much of each and all believing; <br />Each his small designs achieving <br />Hurries on with restless feet, <br />While, through Fancy’s power deceiving, <br />Self in every form I greet. <br /> <br />Oft in yonder rocky dell <br />Neath the birches’ shadow seated, <br />I have watched the darksome well, <br />Where my stooping form, repeated, <br />Now advanced and now retreated <br />With the spring’s alternate swell, <br />Till destroyed before completed <br />As the big drops grew and fell. <br /> <br />By the hollow mountain-side <br />Questions strange I shout for ever, <br />While the echoes far and wide <br />Seem to mock my vain endeavour; <br />Still I shout, for though they never <br />Cast my borrowed voice aside, <br />Words from empty words they sever— <br />Words of Truth from words of Pride. <br /> <br />Yes, the faces in the crowd, <br />And the wakened echoes, glancing <br />From the mountain, rocky browed, <br />And the lights in water dancing— <br />Each my wandering sense entrancing, <br />Tells me back my thoughts aloud, <br />All the joys of Truth enhancing <br />Crushing all that makes me proud.<br /><br />James Clerk Maxwell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflex-musings-reflections-from-various-surfaces/
