The Voices

I heard the voice of the city,
Calling again and again,
And into her arms there hastened
Million and millions of men.

And I heard the voice of old gardens,
Of quiet woodland ways;
But few there were who would heed them
In the rush of the busy days.

The cities grow old and vanish,
And their people faint and die;
But the gardens are green forever,
Forever blue is the sky!

by Charles Hanson Towne

Other poems of CHARLES HANSON TOWNE (106)

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