Tableau

Locked arm in arm they cross the way, The black boy and the white, The golden splendor of the day, The sable pride of night.

From lowered blinds the dark folk stare, And here the fair folk talk, Indignant that these two should dare In unison to walk.

Oblivious to look and word They pass, and see no wonder That lightning brilliant as a sword Should blaze the path of thunder.