The Thames nocturne of blue and gold
Changed to a harmony in grey;
A barge with ochre-coloured hay
Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold
The yellow fog came creeping down
The bridges, till the houses' walls
Seemed changed to shadows, and St. Paul's
Loomed like a bubble o'er the town.
Then suddenly arose the clang
Of waking life; the streets were stirred
With country waggons; and a bird
Flew to the glistening roofs and sang.
But one pale woman all alone,
The daylight kissing her wan hair,
Loitered beneath the gas lamps' flare,
With lips of flame and heart of stone.
_John Davidson_
John Davidson was born at Barrhead, Renfrewshire, in 1857. His
_Ballads and Songs_ (1895) and _New Ballads_ (1897) attained a sudden
but too short-lived popularity, and his great promise was quenched by
an apathetic public and by his own growing disillusion and despair.
His sombre yet direct poetry never tired of repeating his favorite
theme: "Man is but the Universe grown conscious."
Davidson died by his own hand in 1909.