I saw
the fog grow thick
Which soon made blind my ken;
It
made tall men of boys,
And giants of tall men.
It
clutched my throat, I coughed;
Nothing was in my head
Except two heavy eyes
Like balls of burning lead.
And
when it grew so black
That I could know no place
I
lost all judgment then,
Of distance or of space.
The
street lamps, and the lights
Upon the halted
cars,
Could
either be on earth
Or be the heavenly stars.
A man
passed by me close,
I asked my way, he said,
"Come, follow me, my friend " -
I followed where he led.
He
rapped the stones in front,
"Trust me," he said, " and come";
I
followed like a child -
a blind man led me home.
W. H. Davis |