Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
On a Subway ExpressChester Firkins
I,
For chilling pave and cheerless light,
Have made my meeting-place with God
A new and nether Night—
Loud caverns, tremulous;—and these
Atone me for my reverend hills
And moonlit silences.
Where men sit muted by the roar,
I ride upon the whirring Spark
Beneath the city’s floor.
Whirl by in blazing files and tiers;
Kin meteors graze our flying bars,
Amid the spinning spheres.
Flash silver where the head-light gleams,
As when on lake the Moon impales
The waves upon its beams.
Outgazing on majestic Power;
Death rides with me, on either hand,
In my communion hour.
Scoff not at me—the city clod;—
My only respite of the Day
Is this wild ride—with God.