Overhead the shamefaced stars
Softly scan the street below
Where shops in splendor sparkle,
Where the signs of theatres dazzle,
As along the gleaming highway
Head-lights come and tail-lights go.

Timidly the Dawn creeps in
And the blasphemed Sun mounts high
Beating vainly on the windows
Of tall buildings where the workers
Count the debits and the credits
Under lamps with greenish shades.