The dustman

At night when everyone's asleep

It must be very late! I creep

Softly down the darkened stairs

To the big room where we have prayers,

And, standing at the window,

I watch the Dustman going by.

Perched up on his high seat he looks

Like charioteers in those old books,

And his long coat, when the lights are dim,

Makes funny shadows all over him.