V. DE S. PINTO(CHRIST CHURCH)
V. DE S. PINTO(CHRIST CHURCH)
V. DE S. PINTO(CHRIST CHURCH)
Lateat night in the stationIt is cold: the gas lamps shine,Down-pointing pyramids of yellow lightIn a long, solemn line.People are waiting on the platform,Pacing to the end and back,Or sitting huddled, drowsy, on the seats,All dressed in black.Their faces look pale and delicate like ivory;Far off in the night,Like the sinister eye of a wild beast,Winks a green light.So still, so still: a faint scream in the distance,Then silence and the trainCrashes in, a golden horse, fiercely triumphant,Tossing his fiery mane.
Lateat night in the stationIt is cold: the gas lamps shine,Down-pointing pyramids of yellow lightIn a long, solemn line.People are waiting on the platform,Pacing to the end and back,Or sitting huddled, drowsy, on the seats,All dressed in black.Their faces look pale and delicate like ivory;Far off in the night,Like the sinister eye of a wild beast,Winks a green light.So still, so still: a faint scream in the distance,Then silence and the trainCrashes in, a golden horse, fiercely triumphant,Tossing his fiery mane.
Lateat night in the stationIt is cold: the gas lamps shine,Down-pointing pyramids of yellow lightIn a long, solemn line.
Lateat night in the station
It is cold: the gas lamps shine,
Down-pointing pyramids of yellow light
In a long, solemn line.
People are waiting on the platform,Pacing to the end and back,Or sitting huddled, drowsy, on the seats,All dressed in black.
People are waiting on the platform,
Pacing to the end and back,
Or sitting huddled, drowsy, on the seats,
All dressed in black.
Their faces look pale and delicate like ivory;Far off in the night,Like the sinister eye of a wild beast,Winks a green light.
Their faces look pale and delicate like ivory;
Far off in the night,
Like the sinister eye of a wild beast,
Winks a green light.
So still, so still: a faint scream in the distance,Then silence and the trainCrashes in, a golden horse, fiercely triumphant,Tossing his fiery mane.
So still, so still: a faint scream in the distance,
Then silence and the train
Crashes in, a golden horse, fiercely triumphant,
Tossing his fiery mane.
Youtoo have seen the great white swans, who glideUpon the lonely waters of the world,Curving their delicate necks with queenly prideAbove the shining mirror, wherein is whirledAll the wild seething mob of human things,The riot of men and those strange gods and kings,They set up on great golden thrones and crownWith garlands of bright stars, then drag them downInto the mud with fierce tumultuous cries.Yes, all these wild reflections soon will pass,The drunken laughter and the vast distress,And the waters will be clear as polished glass,Imaging only calm unruffled skies,And the swans will still sail on in their proud loveliness.
Youtoo have seen the great white swans, who glideUpon the lonely waters of the world,Curving their delicate necks with queenly prideAbove the shining mirror, wherein is whirledAll the wild seething mob of human things,The riot of men and those strange gods and kings,They set up on great golden thrones and crownWith garlands of bright stars, then drag them downInto the mud with fierce tumultuous cries.Yes, all these wild reflections soon will pass,The drunken laughter and the vast distress,And the waters will be clear as polished glass,Imaging only calm unruffled skies,And the swans will still sail on in their proud loveliness.
Youtoo have seen the great white swans, who glideUpon the lonely waters of the world,Curving their delicate necks with queenly prideAbove the shining mirror, wherein is whirledAll the wild seething mob of human things,The riot of men and those strange gods and kings,They set up on great golden thrones and crownWith garlands of bright stars, then drag them downInto the mud with fierce tumultuous cries.Yes, all these wild reflections soon will pass,The drunken laughter and the vast distress,And the waters will be clear as polished glass,Imaging only calm unruffled skies,And the swans will still sail on in their proud loveliness.
Youtoo have seen the great white swans, who glide
Upon the lonely waters of the world,
Curving their delicate necks with queenly pride
Above the shining mirror, wherein is whirled
All the wild seething mob of human things,
The riot of men and those strange gods and kings,
They set up on great golden thrones and crown
With garlands of bright stars, then drag them down
Into the mud with fierce tumultuous cries.
Yes, all these wild reflections soon will pass,
The drunken laughter and the vast distress,
And the waters will be clear as polished glass,
Imaging only calm unruffled skies,
And the swans will still sail on in their proud loveliness.