The Lamplighter
The dark days now begin, when in afternoonThe Great Night Lantern makes a razor-edgeOf black and white in the streets.And one comes, called the Lamplighter,And the straight stiff lamps of these stiff London streets,At his quick touch burst into light.
At this shy hourI see from my unshaded windowBright girls, hair flowing, go by with shuttered faces,Holding close captive their warm insurgent bosoms.And then, at the corner,Some slender lad of bold and upright carriageGreets them, and the shuttered lanterns of their facesBurst with light at the touch of the lamplighter.
Oh, kind ingenious lamplighter,Will you please step this way?