Page:The man against the sky; a book of poems.djvu/138

 Time came, and hardly one of us Had credence to restore, From what appeared one day, the man Whom we had known before.

The broken voice, the withered neck, The coat worn out with care, The cleanliness of indigence, The brilliance of despair, The fond imponderable dreams Of affluence,—all were there.

Poor Finzer, with his dreams and schemes, Fares hard now in the race, With heart and eye that have a task When he looks in the face Of one who might so easily Have been in Finzer's place.