I
CITY SKETCHES
Go forth now, moods and metres,
Sing your song and tell your story;
You have companioned me
Through hours grave and gay,
What will you say
To him whose curious hand
Shall turn these pages?
Soon all my joy in setting forth
My vagrant thoughts
Shall pass
Into the silence;
Soon I shall be
One with the mystery.
My book upon some quiet shelf
Beneath your touch
Shall wake, perhaps,
And speak again
My wonder, my delight,
My questioning before the night—
And as you read
Somewhere afar
I shall be singing, singing.