Poems (Henley)/To me at my fifth-floor window
XII
To me at my fifth-floor window The chimney-pots in rowsAre sets of pipes pandean For every wind that blows;
And the smoke that whirls and eddies In a thousand times and keysIs really a visible music Set to my reveries.
O monstrous pipes, melodious With fitful tune and dream,The clouds are your only audience, Her thought is your only theme!
1875