Verse > Anthologies > Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. > The Book of New York Verse
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Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed.  The Book of New York Verse.  1917.
 
That Dear Coney (abridged)
By Chester Firkins
 
A CITY walled against the golden day,
  A city starless in the silver night,
Hath reared in glory down her teeming bay,
Past many a roaring quay,
  Electra’s Temple pinnacled with light.        5
 
Fountains ablaze and whirling wheels of fire,
  A phantom garden by the rumbling sea;
Not Ctesiphon nor flame-adoring Tyre,
Not Carthage’s red pyre
  E’er burned the night to such a brilliancy.        10
 
Bright mirrored towers tremble in the wave;
  My black prow cleaves through faery citadels;
I gaze upon a deep, enchanted pave,
Some sea-tombed city’s grave,
  Whence music ’mid the voice of revel wells.        15
 
The ghostly castles crumble; but the cry,
  The song, the shouting grow; and far away
Weird echo-voices call me as they fly,
  “Come! Join the night city at her play!
  Forget the dark of day;        20
For here the ways of light and laughter lie.”
 
 
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