One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand, <br />With wave upon slowly shattering wave, <br />Turned to the city of towers as evening fell; <br />And slowly walked by the darkening road toward it; <br />And saw how the towers darkened against the sky; <br />And across the distance heard the toll of a bell. <br /> <br />Along the darkening road he hurried alone, <br />With his eyes cast down, <br />And thought how the streets were hoarse with a tide of people, <br />With clamor of voices, and numberless faces . . . <br />And it seemed to him, of a sudden, that he would drown <br />Here in the quiet of evening air, <br />These empty and voiceless places . . . <br />And he hurried towards the city, to enter there. <br /> <br />Along the darkening road, between tall trees <br />That made a sinister whisper, loudly he walked. <br />Behind him, sea-gulls dipped over long grey seas. <br />Before him, numberless lovers smiled and talked. <br />And death was observed with sudden cries, <br />And birth with laughter and pain. <br />And the trees grew taller and blacker against the skies <br />And night came down again.<br /><br />Conrad Potter Aiken<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-house-of-dust-part-01-03-one-where-the-pale-2/
