The City

Written 1919


        
   It was golden and splendid, 
     That City of light; 
   A vision suspended 
     In deeps of the night; 
   A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white. 

   I remember the season 
     It dawn'd on my gaze; 
   The mad time of unreason, 
     The brain-numbing days 
   When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze. 

   More lovely than Zion 
     It shone in the sky 
   When the beams of Orion 
     Beclouded my eye, 
   Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by. 

   Its mansions were stately, 
     With carvings made fair, 
   Each rising sedately 
     On terraces rare, 
   And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there. 

   The avenues lur'd me 
     With vistas sublime; 
   Tall arches assur'd me 
     That once on a time 
   I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime. 

   On the plazas were standing 
     A sculptur'd array; 
   Long bearded, commanding, 
     rave men in their day-- 
   But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away. 

   In that city effulgent 
     No mortal I saw, 
   But my fancy, indulgent 
     To memory's law, 
   Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with awe. 

   I fann'd the faint ember 
     That glow'd in my mind, 
   And strove to remember 
     The aeons behind; 
   To rove thro' infinity freely, and visit the past unconfin'd. 

   Then the horrible warning 
     Upon my soul sped 
   Like the ominous morning 
     That rises in red, 
   And in panic I flew from the knowledge of terrors forgotten and dead. 

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