Poem by Elinor Wylie

The Child on the Curbstone

The headlights raced; the moon, death-faced, 
Stared down on that golden river. 
I saw through the smoke the scarlet cloak 
Of a boy who could not shiver.

His father’s hand forced him to stand, 
The traffic thundered slaughter; 
One foot he thrust in the whirling dust 
As it were running water.

As in a dream I saw the stream 
Scatter in drops that glistened; 
They flamed, they flashed, his brow they splashed, 
And danger’s son was christened.

The portent passed; his fate was cast, 
Sea-farer, desert-ranger. 
Tearless I smiled on that fearless child 
Dipping his foot in Danger.

1. One Person
2. In Our Content, before the Autumn Came
3. The Pekingese
4. Upon Your Heart, Which Is.the Heart of All
5. Absent Thee from Felicity Awhile

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