Alarm Clocks

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2> Alarm Clocks </h2> <p> When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm<br/> Across green fields and yellow hills of hay<br/> The little twittering birds laugh in his way<br/> And poise triumphant on his shining arm.<br/> He bears a sword of flame but not to harm<br/> The wakened life that feels his quickening sway<br/> And barnyard voices shrilling "It is day!"<br/> Take by his grace a new and alien charm.<br/> <br/> But in the city, like a wounded thing<br/> That limps to cover from the angry chase,<br/> He steals down streets where sickly arc-lights sing,<br/> And wanly mock his young and shameful face;<br/> And tiny gongs with cruel fervor ring<br/> In many a high and dreary sleeping place.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />