University of Virginia Library

44   The little one sleeps in its cradle;
I lift the gauze, and look a long time, and silently      brush away flies with my hand.
45  The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up      the bushy hill;
I peeringly view them from the top.
46  The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the      bedroom;
I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair — I note      where the pistol has fallen.
47  The blab of the pave, the tires of carts, sluff of      boot-soles, talk of the promenaders;
The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating      thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the      granite floor;
The snow-sleighs, the clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of      snow-balls;
The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd      mobs;
The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside,      borne to the hospital;
The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows      and fall;
The excited crowd, the policeman with his star,      quickly working his passage to the centre of      the crowd;
The impassive stones that receive and return so many      echoes;
What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall      sun-struck, or in fits;
What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who      hurry home and give birth to babes;
What living and buried speech is always vibrating here       — what howls restrain'd by decorum,
Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made,      acceptances, rejections with convex lips;
I mind them or the show or resonance of them — I      come, and I depart.