Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
The Metropolitan Museum of ArtLloyd Mifflin
I
Hushed refuge from the tumult of the street,
Be thou my Fane, with sculptured gods replete,
Mine altar dim—my sanctuary glade!
With genius rare on every side displayed,
Dearer thou art than dreams of waving wheat
In dales of vanished Youth!—O rich retreat
Throbbing with garnered shapes that never fade!
The deathless dead are round me. In these rooms
Glow the achieved summits of mankind:
The marbles breathe: the color flames and glooms—
Immortal Beauty by the soul divined;
Inviolate here, the pure Ideal blooms,
The flower of man’s creative, God-like mind!