Over the tops of the houses <br />Twilight and sunset meet. <br />The green, diaphanous dusk <br />Sinks to the eager street. <br /> <br />Astray in the tangle of roofs <br />Wanders a wind of June. <br />The dial shines in the clock-tower <br />Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon. <br /> <br />The narrowing lines of the houses <br />Palely begin to gleam, <br />And the hurrying crowds fade softly <br />Like an army in a dream. <br /> <br />Above the vanishing faces <br />A phantom train flares on <br />With a voice that shakes the shadows, -- <br />Diminishes, and is gone. <br /> <br />And I walk with the journeying throng <br />In such a solitude <br />As where a lonely ocean <br />Washes a lonely wood.<br /><br />Sir Charles GD Roberts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twilight-on-sixth-avenue-at-ninth-street-2/
