Читать книгу Poems - French Nora May - Страница 9

FACES that throng and stare and come and go —

The air a-quiver as the voices meet;

And loud Humanity in mingled flow

Passes with jarring tread of many feet.

But over all the chatter of the crowd

(The background for its delicate relief)

Now trembling in a thread, now wild and loud,

The violin laughs and sings, and cries its grief.

Then, through it all, and round it all, the sea;

A solemn heart with never-ceasing beat,

Bearing an undertone of mystery

The harsh and lovely notes, the shrill and sweet.

Surely it is my life – of plodding days,

With one Ideal holding clear and good;

And sounding over, under, through my ways,

Something apart – and never understood.