The House of Dust; a symphony Part 15

Good night! good night! good night! we go our ways, The rain runs over the pavement before our feet, The cold rain falls, the rain sings.

We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid, We have built a tower of stone high into the sky.

We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.

Our souls are light. They have shaken a burden of hours. . . .

What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .

Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .

And after a while they will fall to dust and rain; Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands; And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

1916-1917