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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CITY CRY, by BERT MOREHOUSE First Line: A bell, a horn Last Line: How much I slaved lost in a dream! | |||
A bell, a horn, a long-drawn, rasping breath of sound. The giant turns, restive on his luckless bed. Racing commuters' cars make congestion in his lungs. He resents the lifting lid drawn relentlessly from his cyclopean-eye, -- his heart resists, Knowing no joy, no sorrow, no pain, Not even the solace of the hard, relentless, grey and earth-drawn sky that knows one life and death and love in rain. He lifts long, grumbling fingers up; He shakes discontent and fear and hate down all the empty streets that echo any dark, stray footsteps and the rattling garbage tins when those of night seek sleep. This they would have me starving share Though the giant would not know or care, How much I slaved lost in a dream! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLOISTERED DAWN by BERT MOREHOUSE LONE VESPERS by BERT MOREHOUSE WHEN TIME HAS TAKEN WINGS by BERT MOREHOUSE A MINOR POET by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET GETTING A PURCHASE by KAREN SWENSON THE GIANT PUFFBALL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 32 by PHILIP SIDNEY SPRING IN WAR TIME by SARA TEASDALE RECOLLECTIONS OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS by ALFRED TENNYSON |
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