The Golden Darkness/The Eternal Pity
THE ETERNAL PITY.
When I walk among the gravestones men call houses,
In the cemetery men call a city,
And feel the cold wind that noses at all windows,
I am swept by the old eternal pity.
In the cemetery men call a city,
And feel the cold wind that noses at all windows,
I am swept by the old eternal pity.
All the old confusion blows over me,
Sadness, beauty, loneliness, wave on wave;
I walk through the grey streets, I have nowhere to go,
I cannot walk anywhere but over my grave.
Sadness, beauty, loneliness, wave on wave;
I walk through the grey streets, I have nowhere to go,
I cannot walk anywhere but over my grave.
In every house I see a tense, dumb appeal
Of the many dead who do not want to die;
All the roofs are the lifted hands of the dust
Beseeching the blue aloofness of the sky.
Of the many dead who do not want to die;
All the roofs are the lifted hands of the dust
Beseeching the blue aloofness of the sky.
I speak to a man, I speak to a dead man . . .
I have nowhere to go, I walk through the grey streets;
A chill gravestone is waiting for me somewhere;
The years are beating in people's footbeats.
I have nowhere to go, I walk through the grey streets;
A chill gravestone is waiting for me somewhere;
The years are beating in people's footbeats.
When I walk among the gravestones men call houses,
In the cemetery men call a city,
And feel the cold wind that noses at all windows,
I am swept by the old eternal pity.
In the cemetery men call a city,
And feel the cold wind that noses at all windows,
I am swept by the old eternal pity.