Skip to content
1878–1952

II

Alfred Browning Stanley Tennyson

Now the Dreamer, who rode by night In the car of the Spirit thro’ space, Came in the blue of June morning, In a mood betwixt pity and scorning,

To the populous market-place. Afar in the infinite blue Hung the snow-capped mountain-ranges; But round him moved the press

Of the city's business In kaleidoscopic changes. For the square was all life and all colour, All confusion and clamour,

As dealers showed the paces Of colts, untamed in the traces, To the rap of the auctioneer's hammer. He saw there the dusty sheep

Trotting blindly amidst the throng; The swine with quivering snouts, The boys who urged them with shouts, The hawkers of picture and song;

The brown-skinned peasants trudging By their slow-paced bullock wains, With children asprawl the load, And wives who scolded and rode

With an eye to their husbands’ gains; The hooknosed Orient merchants, Who came in the caravans And bargained over the prices

Of silks and carpets and spices, Pearls and feathers and fans; The clumsy sailors in ear-rings From the echoing harbour beach,

With parrots and shells for their wares, The light of the sun in their stares, The sound of the wind in their speech. And the shrill-voiced changers of money

Who sat with their clerks at the tables.... And it seemed to him all no matter As he gazed... like the evening chatter Of starlings under his gables.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
II · Alfred Browning Stanley Tennyson · Poetry Cove