A near horizon whose sharp jags br Cut brutally into a sky br Of leaden heaviness, and crags br Of houses lift their masonry br Ugly and foul, and chimneys lie br And snort, outlined against the gray br Of lowhung cloud. I hear the sigh br The goaded city gives, not day br Nor night can ease her heart, her anguished labours stay. br br Below, straight streets, monotonous, br From north and south, from east and west, br Stretch glittering; and luminous br Above, one tower tops the rest br And holds aloft man's constant quest: br Time! Joyless emblem of the greed br Of millions, robber of the best br Which earth can give, the vulgar creed br Has seared upon the night its flaming ruthless screed. br br O Night! Whose soothing presence brings br The quiet shining of the stars. br O Night! Whose cloak of darkness clings br So intimately close that scars br Are hid from our own eyes. Beggars br By day, our wealth is having night br To burn our souls before altars br Dim and tree-shadowed, where the light br Is shed from a young moon, mysteriously bright. br br Where art thou hiding, where thy peace? br This is the hour, but thou art not.