Tired and unhappy, you think of houses <br />Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening, <br />While snow's white pieces fall past the window, <br />And the orange firelight leaps. <br /> A young girl sings <br />That song of Gluck where Orpheus pleads with Death; <br />Her elders watch, nodding their happiness <br />To see time fresh again in her self-conscious eyes: <br />The servants bring in the coffee, the children go to bed, <br />Elder and younger yawn and go to bed, <br />The coals fade and glow, rose and ashen, <br />It is time to shake yourself! and break this <br />Banal dream, and turn your head <br />Where the underground is charged, where the weight <br />Of the lean building is seen, <br />Where close in the subway rush, anonymous <br />In the audience, well-dressed or mean, <br />So many surround you, ringing your fate, <br />Caught in an anger exact as a machine!<br /><br />Delmore Schwartz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tired-and-unhappy-you-think-of-houses/
