New York

by AE
With these heaven-assailing spires
All that was in clay or stone
Fabled of rich Babylon
By these children is outdone.

Earth has split her fire in these
To make them of her mightier kind;
Has she that precious fire to give,
The starry-pointing Magian mind,

That soared from the Chaldean plains
Through zones of mystic air, and found
The Master of the Zodiac,
The Will that makes the Wheel go round?
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