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Stuart Curran  "City and Village"  Alexander Anderson (from
Songs of the Rail [1878])   Anderson likens sorrow to "the huge
unshapen monster [who] glared in on pale Frankenstein."  Once
again within the city, 'mid its multitudinous din,    Stand I,
while, as sinks a leaf when left by the uncertain wind, So the
daily village quiet, and the calm I had within,    Shrinks
before the magic contact of the ever-shaping mind.  In the
village life is sluggish, waking up but for a space,    As the
engines shriek and whistle down by hill and wooded glen; But
here a mightier striving stamps itself upon my race—    Here are
all the active ages, and the tramp of busy men.  Then away with
daily labour, thoughts of books or weary rhyme,    Let me plunge
into this whirlpool rolling on in mad unrest— Let me, Faust-
like, have the weal of men in all the coming time,    That its
triumph may strike vigour through the soul within my breast.
Hush! we spoke not of the sor