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Show O CITY STONES! I love you all, so worn, so old, 0 city stones! 0 sanctuary grim and cold, To which, with faltering heart, I make My pilgrimage for memory's sake; Retracing ways he used to know, The streets he passed not long ago, O city streets! A rude throng surges o'er your breast, 0 city stones! The very paths his foot have pressed. My heart cries "Sacrifice!" O heart, Heed then the hope they would impart, Bravo city stones! Perchance his splendor left behind With you, 0 stones! Whore city by-ways twist and wind Where, gay and grave, all people moot Where motley maskers fill the street Some subtle peace, some calm, some grace, Through stony ways. Claire Wallace Flynn, in the Scrap Book. |
