Dawn In New York

The Dawn! The Dawn! The crimson-tinted, comes
Out of the low still skies, over the hills,
Manhattan's roofs and spires and cheerless domes!
The Dawn! My spirit to its spirit thrills.
Almost the mighty city is asleep,
No pushing crowd, no tramping, tramping feet.
But here and there a few cars groaning creep
Along, above, and underneath the street,
Bearing their strangely-ghostly burdens by,
The women and the men of garish nights,
Their eyes wine-weakened and their clothes awry,
Grotesques beneath the strong electric lights.
The shadows wane. The Dawn comes to New York.
And I go darkly-rebel to my work.

by Claude McKay

Comments (3)

Great writing and it is wonderful.
in the last stanzas it's obvious. William is saying that the waterfowl, the duck, goose or whatever might make it somewhere to sleep and not be shot by a hunter, and that he himself might also be safe if that same God protects him... He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. great poem, profound philosophy set to rhyme.
It was really great!