It was then she struck--from behind, In mid air, as with the edge of a great wing! And instantly down the mists of my eyes There came crowds walking--- men as visions With expressionless, animate faces; Empty men with shell-thin bodies Jostling close above the gutter, Hasting--nowhere! And then for the first time I really saw her, really scented the sweat Of her presence and--fell back sickened! Ominous, old, painted-- With bright lips, and lewd Jew’s eyes Her might strapped in by a corset To give her age youth, perfect In her will to be young she had covered The godhead to go beside me. Silent, her voice entered at my eyes And my astonished thought followed her easily: “Well, do their eyes shine, do their clothes fit? These _live_ I tell you! Old men with red cheeks, Young men in gay suits! See them! Dogged, quivering, impassive-- Well--are these the ones you envied?” At which I answered her, “Marvelous old queen, Grant me power to catch something of this day’s Air and sun into your service! That these toilers after peace and after pleasure May turn to you, worshippers at all hours!” But she sniffed upon the words warily-- Yet I persisted, watching for an answer: “To you, horrible old woman, Who know all fires out of the bodies Of all men that walk with lust at heart! To you, O mighty, crafty prowler After the youth of all cities, drunk With the sight of thy archness! All the youth That come to you, you having the knowledge Rather than to those uninitiate-- To you, marvelous old queen, give me always A new marriage--” But she laughed loudly-- “A new grip upon those garments that brushed me In days gone by on beach, lawn, and in forest! May I be lifted still, up and out of terror, Up from before the death living around me-- Tom up continually and carried Whatever way the head of your whim is, A burr upon those streaming tatters--” But the night had fallen, she stilled me And led me away. PATERSON--THE STRIKE At the first peep of dawn she roused me! I rose trembling at the change which the night saw! For there, wretchedly brooding in a corner From which her old eyes glittered fiercely-- “Go!” she said, and I hurried shivering Out into the deserted streets of Paterson. That night she came again, hovering In rags within the filmy ceiling-- “Great Queen, bless me with thy tatters!” “You are blest, go on!” “Hot for savagery, Sucking the air! I went into the city, Out again, baffled onto the mountain! Back into the city! Nowhere The subtle! Everywhere the electric!”