I reach the marble-streeted town,
       &nbsp Whose “Sound” outbreathes its air
       &nbsp       &nbsp Of sharp sea-salts;
I see the movement up and down
       &nbsp       &nbsp As when she was there.
Ships of all countries come and go,
       &nbsp The bandsmen boom in the sun
       &nbsp       &nbsp A throbbing waltz;
The schoolgirls laugh along the Hoe
       &nbsp       &nbsp As when she was one.

I move away as the music rolls:
       &nbsp The place seems not to mind
       &nbsp       &nbsp That she - of old
The brightest of its native souls -
       &nbsp       &nbsp Left it behind!
Over this green aforedays she
       &nbsp On light treads went and came,
       &nbsp       &nbsp Yea, times untold;
Yet none here knows her history -
       &nbsp       &nbsp Has heard her name.