City Nights - In the Temple

Arthur Symons

THE grey and misty night,
     Slim trees that hold the night among
     Their branches, and, along
The vague Embankment, light on light.

The sudden, racing lights!
     I can just hear, distinct, aloof,
     The gaily clattering hoof
Beating the rhythm of festive nights.

The gardens to the weeping moon
     Sigh back the breath of tears.
     O the refrain of years on years
’Neath the weeping moon!