Wheels, 1918: Third Cycle

Excerpt from Wheels, 1918: Third Cycle London Squares.
To-night this city seems delirious. The air
Is fever'd, hot and heavy - yet each street
Each tortuous lane and slumb'ring stone-bound square
Smells of the open woods, so wild and sweet.
Through the dim spaces, where each town-bred tree
Sweeps out, mysterious and tall and still
The country's passionate spirit - old and free -
Flings off the fetters of the calm and chill.
There in the garden, fauns leap out and sing -
Chant those strange sun-born songs from far away!
With joyous ecstasy in this new spring,
They cast the coats and top-hats of the day.
There by the railings, where the women pace
With painted faces, passionless and dead,
Out of the dark Pan shows his leering face,
Mocks their large hats and faces painted red.