Over the tops of the houses br Twilight and sunset meet. br The green, diaphanous dusk br Sinks to the eager street. br br Astray in the tangle of roofs br Wanders a wind of June. br The dial shines in the clock-tower br Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon. br br The narrowing lines of the houses br Palely begin to gleam, br And the hurrying crowds fade softly br Like an army in a dream. br br Above the vanishing faces br A phantom train flares on br With a voice that shakes the shadows, -- br Diminishes, and is gone. br br And I walk with the journeying throng br In such a solitude br As where a lonely ocean br Washes a lonely wood.