Upon the bridge the blind man stands alone,

Gray like a mist veiled monument he towers

As though of nameless realms the boundary stone

About which circle distant starry hours.

He seems the center around which stars glow

While all earth’s ostentations surge below.

Immovably and silently he stands

Placed where the confused current ebbs and flows;

Past fathomless dark depths that he commands

A shallow generation drifting goes …