 |
|
|
|
|
 |
 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
OUT IN THE STREETS.
The light is shining through the window-pane;
It is a laughing group that side the glass.
Within, all light; without, pitch-dark and rain:
I see, but feel no pleasure as I pass,
Out in the streets.
It is a laughing group that side the glass.
Within, all light; without, pitch-dark and rain:
I see, but feel no pleasure as I pass,
Out in the streets.
Another casement, with the curtain drawn;
There the light throws the shadow of a form—
A woman's, with a child—a man's: all gone!
They with each other. I am with the storm,
Out in the streets.
There the light throws the shadow of a form—
396
They with each other. I am with the storm,
Out in the streets.
There at the open window sits a man,
His day's toil over, with his pipe alight;
His wife leans o'er him, with her tale began
Of the day's doings. I am with the night,
Out in the streets.
His day's toil over, with his pipe alight;
His wife leans o'er him, with her tale began
Of the day's doings. I am with the night,
Out in the streets.
All these have homes and hope, and light and cheer,
And those around who love them. Ah for me!
Who have no home, but wander sadly here,
Alone with night and storm and misery,
Out in the streets.
And those around who love them. Ah for me!
Who have no home, but wander sadly here,
Alone with night and storm and misery,
Out in the streets.
The rain soaks through my clothing to the skin;
So let it. Curses on that cheery light!
There is no light with me and shame and sin;
I wander in the night and of the night,
Out in the streets.
So let it. Curses on that cheery light!
There is no light with me and shame and sin;
I wander in the night and of the night,
Out in the streets.
You who betrayed me with a loving kiss,
Whose very touch could thrill me through and through,
When you first sought me, did you think of this?
My curse. ... But why waste time in cursing you
Out in the streets?
Whose very touch could thrill me through and through,
When you first sought me, did you think of this?
My curse. ... But why waste time in cursing you
Out in the streets?
You are beyond my hatred now. You stand
Above reproach; you know no wrong nor guile;
Foremost among the worthies of the land,
You are all good, and I a wretch all vile,
Out in the streets.
Above reproach; you know no wrong nor guile;
Foremost among the worthies of the land,
You are all good, and I a wretch all vile,
Out in the streets.
You have a daughter, young and innocent;
You love her, doubtless. I was pure as she
Before my heart to be your lackey went.
God guard her! Never let her roam, like me,
Out in the streets.
You love her, doubtless. I was pure as she
397
God guard her! Never let her roam, like me,
Out in the streets.
I was a father's darling long ago;
'Twas well he died before my babe was born;
And that's dead too—some comfort in my woe!
Wet, cold, and hungered, homeless, sick, forlorn,
Out in the streets.
'Twas well he died before my babe was born;
And that's dead too—some comfort in my woe!
Wet, cold, and hungered, homeless, sick, forlorn,
Out in the streets.
How the cold rain benumbs my weary limbs!
What makes the pavement heave? Ah! wet and chill,
I hear the little children singing hymns
In the village church: how peaceful now and still
Out in the streets.
What makes the pavement heave? Ah! wet and chill,
I hear the little children singing hymns
In the village church: how peaceful now and still
Out in the streets.
But why this vision of my early days?
Why comes the church-door in the public way?
Hence with this mocking sound of prayer and praise!
I have no cause to praise, I dare not pray,
Out in the streets.
Why comes the church-door in the public way?
Hence with this mocking sound of prayer and praise!
I have no cause to praise, I dare not pray,
Out in the streets.
What change is here? The night again grows warm;
The air is fragrant as an infant's breath.
Why, where's my hunger? Left me in the storm?
Now, God forgive my sins! this, this is death,
Out in the streets.
The air is fragrant as an infant's breath.
Why, where's my hunger? Left me in the storm?
Now, God forgive my sins! this, this is death,
Out in the streets.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |