New York Nocturnes, and Other Poems — Twilight on Sixth Avenue

Over the tops of the houses Twilight and sunset meet.

The green, diaphanous dusk Sinks to the eager street.

Astray in the tangle of roofs Wanders a wind of June.

The dial shines in the clock-tower Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon.

The narrowing lines of the houses Palely begin to gleam, And the hurrying crowds fade softly Like an army in a dream.

Above the vanishing faces A phantom train flares on With a voice that shakes the shadows,-- Diminishes, and is gone.

And I walk with the journeying throng In such a solitude As where a lonely ocean Washes a lonely wood.