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.
 
In Lower New York
By Mrs. Schuyler Van Rensselaer
 
STAND here with me. The throngs dissolve away.
  The sunset fades. A single star grows bright.
  The moon as purely sheds her balm of light
Through these cliff-corridors as on the bay
Pure-spread beyond them. Sea-breeze murmurs say,        5
  Not all of time is pledged for gain, the night
  Means sleeping even here, and in despite
Of gold and greed will dawn a Sabbath-day.
 
There is no peace like this, the deep repose
  Of citadels of haggard restlessness.        10
Prairie and mountain-top and twilit snows
  Breathe of the benison of silence less
Than these tired streets, dazed with the noise of men,
  When the calm darkness bids them rest again.
 
 
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