Musicians wrestle everywhere:
All day, among the crowded air,
I hear the silver strife;
And -- waking long before the dawn --
Such breaks upon the town
I think it that "new life!
All day, among the crowded air,
I hear the silver strife;
And -- waking long before the dawn --
Such breaks upon the town
I think it that "new life!
Dickinson - Two - Complete
