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Show H SEVEN SONNETS TO MAN- Hi HATTAN. H By John Myors O'Hara. H From the Ferry. H Sungot has cleft the clouds with sud- H don flamo H And flung a glowing shaft on roofs H that rise, H trussed and ononnous, in the even- H ing skies; H This is tho work of gods, not men, H who tame H Blind force and master chaos, and Ki proclaim H Order vand wreck immortal enter- H prise; H This twilight-blended bastion that H defies H Ocean and heaven, no deeds but theirs H might frame H O peerless city! never yet has timo H, Upreared to skies a vision like to H Hj Rock-based and wave-encircled, built H to bo H When older rivals live alone in L rhyme; B Rumor Of ruin shall come from every H clime, Hj But thou unscathed shall daunt H eternity. j Impassive stoics wrought of steel Bf and 'Stone; H But tho wide stream is that of life H alone, H With restless hearts instead of drift- W ing sand; H Between them lies tho curved and Hi- paven strand H'' That pleasure claims supremely for H,s her own; R By waves of chance and winds of 1 fortune blown H Tho human flotsam comes from every K Cloud-turbaned in the day, by night H. enstarrod. m Tho Flatirons are colossal and they H guard, 1 As once the needle columns by the Bi The gateway of the world to Mam- w raon's mile; Hr And myriads pass beneath thorn, and D the night H Is not for nny but for all delight. H Longacre Square. H I saw upflame from that declivity, H As from tho underworld, as ashen H And the grim shadow, baffled and Hj at bay, H Cling saturnine around the revelry; H ' Tho lights were still a morbid lure H to me, B , But as I turned reluctantly to wtray H t Tho path of olden glamor with tho H My heart was far where fields are H j fair to see. H I Like specters passed, with covert H glance Of fire 13 And sensuous snare of raiment and ; perfume, H ' The moths that burn in this stupen- Hj s dpus pyre QJ ' Reared on the night to beauty and H to doom; They loft the disenchantment of desire, de-sire, The vision of a vestal in the gloom. Fifth Avenue. Lordly and wide, with gradual rise and fall, As the triumphal way where victors will Ascend no more the templed Roman hill; And sweeping upward, lordlier than all Great paven paths, it gleams between tho tall Grandeur of flanking granite; lordlier lord-lier still Than the vertiginous roads of gods that thrill, Cloven by aeons through the mountain moun-tain wall. A way that looms imperial, but free Of homage due to dominating power; pow-er; Thrall to tho regal portent of the hour, Commingling with the throng, we dream to see After the trophies that great battle won, Caesar's own chariot flashing in the sun. The Red Room. (Moquin's) Blither the thoughts go .dancing through the brain, A Bacchlo throng in revel-garb arrayed; ar-rayed; Tho olouds of care, as mists of morning, fade From those red walls, Bohemia's domain; do-main; Wo feel the fire of youth in every vein, And wit still parries as blade on blade; Mirth reigns supreme, and friend and camerade Join in a health, oblivious of pain. What is that number? Ah, tho Trau-merei! Trau-merei! Music that saddens vaguely with tho start Of sero and vanished pathos; you and I OUnk glasgos, and in silenco fall apart; And the light laughter loaves us, and wo gaze Into the gulf of dead remorseful days. The Little Church Around the Corner. It nostlos meekly underneath the high Buildings that tower around It, and beside The spacious avenue of wealth and pride, Ita doom detain tho weary passer-by; Tho grind of toll and roar of traffic die Along those aisles where soul and eonso divide; Tho conao' Mr " that the streets denied de-nied Hushes the w.irt and grief becomes a lgh. HHBHHHaHHHHHKM Tho great world laughs and passes with the might And pomp of life, impatient of its peace; But when the pageant vanishes with night And all tho claims of gain and glory cease, One enters sad as Dante, long ago, The convent gate of Fra Hilarlo. Mirror. |