Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-40.djvu/120

110 Men had no time to listen,
 * And he no heart to wait:

So he hushed his song and passed along
 * Out through the city gate.

He went alone, the pale singer,
 * 'Long the dusty road from the town:

His cheeks were thin, and tears stood in
 * His eyes so wide and brown.

And the woman's lip was trembling,
 * As she turned from her work to look:

The lover lorn forgot to mourn,
 * And the student closed his book.

When the sunset gates were opened,
 * And the western skies aflame,

From over the hill to the city still
 * A magical music came.

Men cried, "Do you hear the music?"
 * They were resting after the day.

"That singer sweet to our city street
 * Shall come and dwell for aye!"

Far over the land they sought him,
 * Sought till the night grew late;

But the weary feet of the singer sweet
 * Had passed the sunset gate.

Then back to the streets of the city,
 * Back to its tire, they came;

And eyes were wet with a sweet regret
 * As they spoke the singer's fame.

He passed alone, the pale singer,
 * And no one turned to look,

Save a woman worn, and a lover lorn,
 * And a student over his book.

Now ever in hush of evening
 * Men sit with lips grown dumb,

As over the hill to the city still
 * The songs of the singer come.