These populations—

So puny, white-faced, machine-made,

Turned out by factories, out of offices, out of drawing-rooms, by thousands all alike—

Huddled, stitched up, in clothes, fearing a chill, a drop of rain, looking timidly at the sea and sky as at strange monsters, or running back so quick to their suburban runs and burrows,

Dapper, libidinous, cute, with washed-out small eyes—

What are these?

Are they men and women?

Each denying himself, hiding himself?

Are they men and women?