| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | Brooklyn Bridge Towers | | By George Alfred Townsend |
| | (As Unconnected)
BRONTÉS BROTHER! are you waiting | |
| Faithfully for me? | |
| Stand fast and at last | |
| I’ll reach my hair to thee. | |
| Though of vacant sight, | 5 |
| Blindly we are feeling | |
| Tow’rd each other, till the light, | |
| Through our sockets stealing | |
| O’er the stream, in one beam | |
| Shall meet, and see! | 10 |
| |
ARGÉS Brother! I am listening | |
| To the words you say, | |
| As they reach me, whistling | |
| Across the windy bay. | |
| Though my feet are cold, | 15 |
| And they long divide us, | |
| Here I’ll hold till I am old; | |
| Our echoes shall provide us | |
| On bounding feet a pathway fleet, | |
| Till we behold! | 20 |
| |
BRONTÉS Like two gates asunder | |
| Something swings between. | |
| On our heads the thunder | |
| Strikes. We stand serene! | |
| Earliest on our brows, | 25 |
| Still the latest tarry | |
| The rosy clouds; the birds in crowds | |
| Sail round to see us marry. | |
| We will win, though, my twin, | |
| Waves intervene. | 30 |
| |
ARGÉS Hark, behind! the churches | |
| Faintly lift their bells. | |
| And far below come and go | |
| The city’s hollow swells; | |
| Frightened ferry fleets | 35 |
| Disappear in vapour, | |
| And the camps of twinkling lamps | |
| Struggle for a taper. | |
| To them all, starry tall, | |
| We are sentinels! | 40 |
| |
BRONTÉS Aye! I cannot see them, | |
| Yet I feel them there; | |
| And clambering stars their silver bars | |
| Wind o’er me like a stair. | |
| Brother, does a pulse | 45 |
| Start not in thy shoulder, | |
| For a mystic destiny,— | |
| Something better, bolder,— | |
| When the rainbow its skein | |
| Twineth in air? | 50 |
| |
ARGÉS Yes! A host of spirits | |
| In procession creep | |
| O’er me silently, | |
| From darkened deeps of sleep. | |
| Far away I hear | 55 |
| Wheels imperious driven | |
| Up the heights of the atmosphere, | |
| By the image of Heaven! | |
| His path we span, and, brother! Man | |
| Is the charioteer! | 60 | | | |
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