| 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? | | | | |
|
|
