Street Pageant by Ella McFadyen

Sometimes the glamour comes upon mine eyes,
   And o'er the fretful faces of the crowd,
   The hungering gaze, the clinging shoulders bowed,
The slouching gait, the strained, masked miseries,
Comes transformation. They grow glorious-these;
   I see them a brave throng, whom trumpets loud
   Proclaim for pilgrims to crusade avowed,
Marching to far-off, ageless destinies.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 10 August 1937

Author reference site: Austlit

See also.