Here was a man who watched the river flow <br />Past the huge town, one gray November day. <br />Round him in narrow high-piled streets at play <br />The boys made merry as they saw him go, <br />Murmuring half-loud, with eyes upon the stream, <br />The immortal screed he held within his hand. <br />For he was walking in an April land <br />With Faust and Helen. Shadowy as a dream <br />Was the prose-world, the river and the town. <br />Wild joy possessed him; through enchanted skies <br />He saw the cranes of Ibycus swoop down. <br />He closed the page, he lifted up his eyes, <br />Lo--a black line of birds in wavering thread <br />Bore him the greetings of the deathless dead!<br /><br />Emma Lazarus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cranes-of-ibicus/
