the darkness brings no quiet here, the light
no waking: ever on my blinded brain
the flare of lights, the rush, and cry, and strain,
the engines' scream, the hiss and thunder smite:
i see the hurrying crowds, the clasp, the flight,
faces that touch, eyes that are dim with pain:
i see the hoarse wheels turn, and the great train
move labouring out into the bourneless night.
so many souls within its dim recesses,
so many bright, so many mournful eyes:
mine eyes that watch grow fixed with dreams and guesses;
what threads of life, what hidden histories,
what sweet or passionate dreams and dark distresses,
what unknown thoughts, what various agonies!