Their bars of animal content?
Nay, here live men unvexed, untried—
I mused. Yet pacing Roosevelt street
In idle humour I espied
A village man and woman meet,
And pass with never word or sign—
So strange in neighbour-folk whose feet
Haunt the same fields in rain and shine
That, curious eyed, in either face,
In curve of lip, or graven line,