Poetry.

Lyttelton Times, Volume IX, Issue 575, 8 May 1858, Page 3

Poetry.

THE CROWDED! STREET. '•i*BY "WIM.IAM'CULIiiN BRYANT. lietmemove slowly through the street, : Filled with an ever shifting train, Amid the sound of steps that beat The murmuring walks like autumn rain. How fast the flitting figures come! The mild, the,fierce, >the stony face; Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some Where secret tears have left their trace. They pass—to toil,'to1 strife, to rest; , To halls in which the feastis-;spread; To chambers where the funeral guest In silence sits beside'the dead. And some to happy homes repair Where children, pressing, cheek to cheek, With mute caresses ;shall declare . The tenderness! they' cannot' speak. And some, who walk in, calmness here, Shall shudder as theyreach the: door Where one who, made their dwelling near, Its flower, its'lightj is seen no more. Youthj with pale cheek and slender frame And dreams of -greatness in thine eye! ; Goest thou to ibuild an .'early name, ; Or early in the task to die? x Keen son of tradej'with'eager hro,^ I ■ Who is now fluttering in thy snare ? Thy golden fortunes, tower they now, , ; Or melt the glittering spires in air? Who of this crowd to-night shall tread .; The dance till daylight:gleam : agairi? Who sorrow o'er :the untimely, dead I, Who writhe-in throes of mortal pain? , . ..... Some, famine-struck, shall think how long The cold dark hours, how, slow the light. And some, who flaunt amid the throng, Shall hide in dens of shame to-night. Each, where his^tasks.or pleasures calj, They^ passj and heed each other not. There is who heeds, who holds them all In his large love and boundless thought. ; These struggling tides of life that'seem In wayward,/aimless course to.tend, Are eddies; of themighty" stream - . That rolls to its appointed: end. :