THE other night I lay within my bed,
Watching my dying fire: it mouldered out.
I listened to the strange nocturnal cries :
A ballad-singer 'neath my window stood,
And sung hoarse songs; she went away, and then
An oyster-man came crying through the streets;
And straight, as if I stood on dusky shores,
I saw the tremulous silver of the sea
Set to some coast beneath the mighty moon.
He passed into the silence. Wafts of song
From arm-linked youths, as they meandered home,
Came to my ears; the town grew still; and then,
Just when my soul was sinking into dream,
Alarm of "Fire!" ran through the startled street,
"And windows were thrown up as it went past.
A hasty engine tore along, and trailed
A lengthening crowd behind. "Ah, ha!" I thought,