The Fog

William Henry Davies

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I saw the fog grow thick,
Which soon made blind my ken;
It made tall men of boys,
And giants of tall men.

It clutched my throat, I coughed;
Nothing was in my head
Except two heavy eyes
Like balls of burning lead.

And when it grew so black
That I could know no place,
I lost all judgment then,
Of distance and of space.

The street lamps, and the lights
Upon the halted cars,
Could either be on earth
Or be the heavenly stars.

A man passed by me close,
I asked my way, he said,
"Come, follow me, my friend"--
I followed where he led.

He rapped the stones in front,
"Trust me," he said, "and come";
I followed like a child--
A blind man led me home.

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Comments1
  • maricruzscales

    "Didn't care for the foggy guy metaphor, bit overdone."