Louise Imogen Guiney

(1861 - 1920 / United States)

Sunday Chimes In The City - Poem by Louise Imogen Guiney

Across the bridge, where in the morning blow
The wrinkled tide turns homeward, and is fain
Homeward to drag the balck sea-goer's chain,
And the long yards by Dowgate dipping low;
Across dispeopled ways, patient and slow,
Saint Magnus and Saint Dunstan call in vain:
>From Wren's forgotten belfries, in the rain,
Down the blank wharves the dropping octaves go.

Forbid not these! Tho' no man heed, they shower
A subtle beauty on the empty hour,
>From all their dark throats aching and outblown;
Aye in the prayerless places welcome most,
Like the last gull that up a naked coast
Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.


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Read poems about / on: rain, beauty, sea, alone, dark, city



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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