Classic Poem

Face on face in the city, and when will the faces end?
Face on face in the city, but never the face of a friend;
Till my heart grows sick with longing and dazed with the din of the street,
As I rush with the thronging thousands in a loneliness complete.

Shall I not know my brothers! Their toil is one with mine.
We offer the fruits of our labor on the same great city's shrine.
They are weary as I am weary; they are happy and sad with me;
And all of us laugh together when evening sets us free.

Face on face in the city, and where shall our fortunes fall?
Face on face in the city,—my heart goes out to you all
See, we labor together; is not the bond divine?
Lo, the strength of the city is built of your life and mine.