OCR Text |
Show A Rainy Day In the City. Above the walls the clouds hang thick and black, The lights are dim behind the misty panes, Down through limp awnings the stained water strains, The smoke sags earthward from the lofty stack, The cars move blindly on the hidden track, A thousand streams dasn through the grated drains. - And over all the dripping city reigns Oppression that will not be driven back. The gongs that rang defiantly before Now sound a weak, half pitiful appeal; There's sadness in the rattle and the roar Produced by iron hoof and heavy wheel; How can the dismal city ever feel The gladness of ambitfon any more? S. E. Kiser in Chicago Record-Herald. |