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.
 
Brooklyn Bridge at Dawn
By Richard Le Gallienne
 
OUT of the cleansing night of stars and tides,
  Building itself anew in the slow dawn,
  The long sea-city rises: night is gone,
Day is not yet; still merciful, she hides
Her summoning brow, and still the night-car glides        5
  Empty of faces; the night-watchmen yawn
  One to the other, and shiver and pass on,
Nor yet a soul over the great bridge rides.
 
Frail as a gossamer, a thing of air,
  A bow of shadow o’er the river flung,        10
    Its sleepy masts and lonely lapping flood;
Who, seeing thus the bridge a-slumber there,
  Would dream such softness, like a picture hung,
    Is wrought of human thunder, iron and blood?
 
 
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