Night In New York Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEFEDGHAHFIFHF JJKLMNMNMLN OPOLPLQQ RSQRSQTQSUTQQU UQTUUVWUXQWVU XU

Haunted by unknown feetA
Ways of the midnight hourB
Strangely you murmur below meC
Strange is your half silent powerB
Places of life and of deathD
Numbered and named as streetsE
What through your channels of stoneF
Is the tide that unweariedly beatsE
A whisper a sigh laden breathD
Is all that I hear of its flowingG
Footsteps of stranger and foeH
Footsteps of friends could we meetA
Alike to me in my sorrowH
Alike to a life left aloneF
Yet swift as my heart they throbI
They fall thick as tears on the stoneF
My spirit perchance may borrowH
New strength from their eager toneF
-
Still ever that slip and slideJ
Of the feet that shuffle or glideJ
And linger or haste through the populous wasteK
Of the shadowy dim lit squareL
And I know not from the soundM
As I sit and ponder withinN
The goal to which those steps are boundM
On hest of mercy or hest of sinN
Or joy's short measured roundM
Yet a meaning deep they bearL
In their vaguely muffled dinN
-
Roar of the multitudeO
Chafe of the million crowdP
To this you are all subduedO
In the murmurous sad night airL
Yet whether you thunder aloudP
Or hush your tone to a prayerL
You chant amain through the modern mazeQ
The only epic of our daysQ
-
Still as death are the places of lifeR
The city seems crumbled and goneS
Sunk 'mid invisible deepsQ
The city so lately rifeR
With the stir of brain and brawnS
Haply it only sleepsQ
But what if indeed it were deadT
And another earth should ariseQ
To greet the gray of the dawnS
Faint then our epic would wailU
To those who should come in our steadT
But what if that earth were oursQ
What if with holier eyesQ
We should meet the new hope and not failU
-
Weary the night grows paleU
With a blush as of opening flowersQ
Dimly the east shines redT
Can it be that the morn shall fulfilU
My dream and refashion our clayU
As the poet may fashion his rhymeV
Hark to that mingled screamW
Rising from workshop and millU
Hailing some marvelous sightX
Mighty breath of the hoursQ
Poured through the trumpets of steamW
Awful tornado of timeV
Blowing us whither it willU
-
God has breathed in the nostrils of nightX
And behold it is dayU

George Parsons Lathrop



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