Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

J. C. SQUIRE . ON A RAILWAY STATION . wilent wall a platform tomy sight SI stand waiting in the rain A For the foggy hoot of the London train , Gazing at silent wall and lamp And post and rail and platform damp , What is this power that comes to my sight That I see a night without the night, That I see them clear , yet look them through The silvery things and the darkly blue, That the solid wall seems soft as death , A wavering and unanchored wraith , And rails that shine and stones that stream Unsubstantial as a dream ? What sudden door has opened so, What hand has passed , that I should know This moving vision not of trance That melts the globe of circumstance, This sight that marks not least or most And makes a stone a passing ghost ? Is it that a year ago I stood upon this self -same spot ; Is it that since a year ago The place and I have altered not ; Is it that I half forgot, A year ago , and all despised For a space the things that I had prized : The race of life , the glittering show ? 172