In St. Germain Street by Bliss Carman — Read

Through the street of St. Germain / March the tattered hosts of rain,

While the wind with vagrant fife / Whips their chilly ranks to life.

From the window I can see / Their ghostly banners blowing free,

As they pass to where the ships / Crowd about the wharves and slips.

There at day's end they embark / To invade the realms of dark,

And the sun comes out again / In the street of St. Germain.