The Fog

I saw the fog grow thick, Which soon made blind my ken; It made tall men of boys, And giants of tall men. It clutched my throat, I coughed; Nothing was in my head Except two heavy eyes Like balls of burning lead. And when it grew so black That I could know no place, I lost all judgment then, Of distance and of space. The street lamps, and the lights Upon the halted cars, Could either be on earth Or be the heavenly stars. A man passed by me close, I asked my way, he said, 'Come, follow me, my friend'— I followed where he led. He rapped the stones in front, 'Trust me,' he said, 'and come'; I followed like a child— A blind man led me home.