The gold voice of the sunset was most clearly in the air
As I wandered through the outskirts of the town.
And here disposed upon the grass, I see
Confetti-thick the amorous couples,—
What thoughts, what scenes, evoke, evaporate
In leaden minds like theirs?
Can I create them? These things
Which mean the happiness of multitudes?
A river bank, grass for a dancing floor,
The concertina's wail, and then the darkening day.
Raise your eyes from ground to trees
And see them stretch elastically
Tall and taller,—then look along
[ . . . ]
Sacheverell Sitwell's poem "Outskirts" was published in the 1918 "cycle" of the Wheels anthology. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link(s) below: