Dana Burnet

WHO are ye hopeless who go with dull faces,

Treading the terrible floorways of night?

Oft have I seen ye flick by in the shadow,

Framed from the dark by a flutter of light.

Do ye gaze up at the hurtling windows,

Streaking your dusk-world with sudden bright lanes?

Do ye dream dreams of the lights and the faces?

Do ye think thoughts of the eyes at the panes?

Far is your path through the burrows of darkness!

Fearful the death if ye falter or blunder!

Once I saw one of you caught in the whirlwind,

Hurled to his fathers with steel and great thunder….

What is your vision, and where is your meaning?

Do ye walk only for Saturday’s pay?

Or are ye sent for a desperate service

That I may ride to my true love to-day?