Elizabethan days . ELIZABETHAN DAYS MISTY night two winters pastDiscolored snow is melting fast,A street that stretches up a riseAnd blends itself into the midnight skies,Crosses a bridge above the tracks,Where now a noisy engine backs:And rows of tiny lanterns, white and green,Give to the rails a silvery sheen,Glimmering through the foggy pallClear to the great, gloomy street lamp with a weary look,A gutter gurgling like a brook,And high above unsteady at this hourArc lights are blinking by the Tower;A mellow odor from the dripping trees,A distant church bell tolls eternities,And a
Elizabethan days . ELIZABETHAN DAYS MISTY night two winters pastDiscolored snow is melting fast,A street that stretches up a riseAnd blends itself into the midnight skies,Crosses a bridge above the tracks,Where now a noisy engine backs:And rows of tiny lanterns, white and green,Give to the rails a silvery sheen,Glimmering through the foggy pallClear to the great, gloomy street lamp with a weary look,A gutter gurgling like a brook,And high above unsteady at this hourArc lights are blinking by the Tower;A mellow odor from the dripping trees,A distant church bell tolls eternities,And all deserted is the dismal are alone, our isolation is complete;We pause to gaze down on the shining cut;Theres something I would tell you—butSaid you, but Ill say nothing thought of something too, yet howTo say it had perplexed my mindAnd to the future I was blind—A pusher engines wave of smokeOur midnight reverie passed along, both left unsaidThe words that in our souls we read, 3 .y&
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidelizabethand, bookyear1912
