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The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1924

To Crowds Waiting To See A Procession

To Crowds Waiting To See A Procession

What would you, unrequited multitude,
The wind of morning playing at your home?
Do you listen as the blind,
Who gather sounds to the mind
For winter treasure
As eyes hoard pleasure
From the familiar courts of summer clouds?
Or do you stand like children at a seaside booth,
Agape at idlers aiming brilliant balls,
Longing themselves to have a dime to throw?

There is a gaze bent on you from a shore
No human sees;
And backward flees
The stern imagination through a score
Of centuries to where one stands
Before a crowd, with outstretched hands.

The ages leap together.
Fierce tongues of time are lapping at your feet.
Time cringes, yet you strain to see a feather
On a notorious lady's hat,
And a pitiful man-shape bowing in a carriage.