A near horizon whose sharp jags <br />Cut brutally into a sky <br />Of leaden heaviness, and crags <br />Of houses lift their masonry <br />Ugly and foul, and chimneys lie <br />And snort, outlined against the gray <br />Of lowhung cloud. I hear the sigh <br />The goaded city gives, not day <br />Nor night can ease her heart, her anguished labours stay. <br /> <br />Below, straight streets, monotonous, <br />From north and south, from east and west, <br />Stretch glittering; and luminous <br />Above, one tower tops the rest <br />And holds aloft man's constant quest: <br />Time! Joyless emblem of the greed <br />Of millions, robber of the best <br />Which earth can give, the vulgar creed <br />Has seared upon the night its flaming ruthless screed. <br /> <br />O Night! Whose soothing presence brings <br />The quiet shining of the stars. <br />O Night! Whose cloak of darkness clings <br />So intimately close that scars <br />Are hid from our own eyes. Beggars <br />By day, our wealth is having night <br />To burn our souls before altars <br />Dim and tree-shadowed, where the light <br />Is shed from a young moon, mysteriously bright. <br /> <br />Where art thou hiding, where thy peace? <br />This is the hour, but thou art not. <br />Will waking tumult never cease? <br />Hast thou thy votary forgot? <br />Nature forsakes this man-begot <br />And festering wilderness, and now <br />The long still hours are here, no jot <br />Of dear communing do I know; <br />Instead the glaring, man-filled city groans below!<br /><br />Amy Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-york-at-night/
