Page:Armistice Day.djvu/234

212 BREST LEFT BEHIND

BY JOHN CHIPMAN FARRAR

sun strikes gold the dirty street,

The band blares, the drums insist,

And brown legs twinkle and muscles twist—

Pound!—Pound!—the rhythmic feet.

The laughing street-boys shout,

And a couple of hags come out

To grin and bob and clap.

Stiff rusty black their dresses,

And crispy white their Breton cap,

Prim on white, smooth tresses.

Wait!...Wait!...While dun clouds droop

Over the sunlit docks,

Over the wet gray rocks

And mast of steamer and sloop,

And the old squat towers,

Damp gray and mossy brown,

Where lovely Ann looked down

And dreamed rich dreams through long luxurious hours.

Sudden and swift, it rains!

Familiar, fogging, gray;

It blots the sky away

And cuts the face with biting little pains.