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32 The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up
 * the bushy hill,

I peeringly view them from the top.

The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the
 * bedroom;

It is so—I witnessed the corpse—there the pistol
 * had fallen.

The blab of the pave, the tires of carts, sluff of boot-
 * soles, talk of the promenaders,

The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating
 * thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the
 * granite floor,

The snow-sleighs, the clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of
 * snow-balls,

The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of roused
 * mobs,

The flap of the curtained litter, a sick man inside,
 * borne to the hospital,

The meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows
 * and fall,

The excited crowd, the policeman with his star,
 * quickly working his passage to the centre of
 * the crowd,

The impassive stones that receive and return so many
 * echoes,

The Souls moving along—(are they invisible, while
 * the least of the stones is visible?)

What groans of over-fed or half-starved who fall sun-struck,
 * or in fits,

What exclamations of women taken suddenly, who
 * hurry home and give birth to babes,