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Armies in the Fire

by
 The lamps now glitter down the street; 
Faintly sound the falling feet; 
And the blue even slowly falls 
About the garden trees and walls.
Now in the falling of the gloom The red fire paints the empty room: And warmly on the roof it looks, And flickers on the back of books.
Armies march by tower and spire Of cities blazing, in the fire;-- Till as I gaze with staring eyes, The armies fall, the lustre dies.
Then once again the glow returns; Again the phantom city burns; And down the red-hot valley, lo! The phantom armies marching go! Blinking embers, tell me true Where are those armies marching to, And what the burning city is That crumbles in your furnaces!

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