Like an army in a dream.
Above the vanishing faces
A phantom train flares on
With a voice that shakes the shadows,—
Diminishes, and is gone.
And I walk with the journeying throng
In such a solitude
As where a lonely ocean
Washes a lonely wood.
Like an army in a dream.
Above the vanishing faces
A phantom train flares on
With a voice that shakes the shadows,—
Diminishes, and is gone.
And I walk with the journeying throng
In such a solitude
As where a lonely ocean
Washes a lonely wood.