No sky—no earthly view,—

No distance looking blue,—

No road—no street—no “’t other side the way,”—

No end to any row,—

No indications where the crescents go,—

No top to any steeple,—

No recognitions of familiar people,—

No courtesies for showing ’em,—

No knowing ’em.

No traveling at all—no locomotion,—