Twilight on Sixth Avenue

Twilight on Sixth Avenue

Over the tops of the housesTwilight and sunset meet.The green, diaphanous duskSinks to the eager street.Astray in the tangle of roofsWanders a wind of June.The dial shines in the clock-towerLike the face of a strange-scrawled moon.The narrowing lines of the housesPalely begin to gleam,And the hurrying crowds fade softlyLike an army in a dream.Above the vanishing facesA phantom train flares onWith a voice that shakes the shadows,—Diminishes, and is gone.And I walk with the journeying throngIn such a solitudeAs where a lonely oceanWashes a lonely wood.

Over the tops of the housesTwilight and sunset meet.The green, diaphanous duskSinks to the eager street.Astray in the tangle of roofsWanders a wind of June.The dial shines in the clock-towerLike the face of a strange-scrawled moon.The narrowing lines of the housesPalely begin to gleam,And the hurrying crowds fade softlyLike an army in a dream.Above the vanishing facesA phantom train flares onWith a voice that shakes the shadows,—Diminishes, and is gone.And I walk with the journeying throngIn such a solitudeAs where a lonely oceanWashes a lonely wood.

Over the tops of the housesTwilight and sunset meet.The green, diaphanous duskSinks to the eager street.

Over the tops of the houses

Twilight and sunset meet.

The green, diaphanous dusk

Sinks to the eager street.

Astray in the tangle of roofsWanders a wind of June.The dial shines in the clock-towerLike the face of a strange-scrawled moon.

Astray in the tangle of roofs

Wanders a wind of June.

The dial shines in the clock-tower

Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon.

The narrowing lines of the housesPalely begin to gleam,And the hurrying crowds fade softlyLike an army in a dream.

The narrowing lines of the houses

Palely begin to gleam,

And the hurrying crowds fade softly

Like an army in a dream.

Above the vanishing facesA phantom train flares onWith a voice that shakes the shadows,—Diminishes, and is gone.

Above the vanishing faces

A phantom train flares on

With a voice that shakes the shadows,—

Diminishes, and is gone.

And I walk with the journeying throngIn such a solitudeAs where a lonely oceanWashes a lonely wood.

And I walk with the journeying throng

In such a solitude

As where a lonely ocean

Washes a lonely wood.


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