Page:Maud, and other poems.djvu/106

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.

Pass, thou deathlike type of pain,
Pass and cease to move about,
'Tis the blot upon the brain
That will show itself without.


Then I rise, the eavedrops fall,
And the yellow vapours choke
The great city sounding wide;
The day comes, a dull red ball
Wrapt in drifts of lurid smoke
On the misty river-tide.


Thro' the hubbub of the market
I steal, a wasted frame,
It crosses here, it crosses there,

Thro' all that crowd confused and loud,