 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
I.
Brother, and fellow-citizen with me
Of this great city whose tremendous gloom
Weighed on thee with the heaviness of doom,—
I walk its ways to-day, and seem to see
Thy saddest eyes; again with thee to be
As on that day when, in this very room,
Thine eyes and ours who watched thee saw Death loom,
A mighty monarch, strong to set thee free.
Of this great city whose tremendous gloom
Weighed on thee with the heaviness of doom,—
I walk its ways to-day, and seem to see
Thy saddest eyes; again with thee to be
As on that day when, in this very room,
Thine eyes and ours who watched thee saw Death loom,
A mighty monarch, strong to set thee free.
Still, still the same, this “City of Dreadful Night,”—
Still does it hear a sound of lamentation,
As of a conquered. broken-hearted nation;
Still glowers the Sphinx, and breaks us with her might
Of unresponsive front. There is no light;
There is no hope; God, there is no salvation.
Still does it hear a sound of lamentation,
As of a conquered. broken-hearted nation;
Still glowers the Sphinx, and breaks us with her might
Of unresponsive front. There is no light;
There is no hope; God, there is no salvation.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |