| Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917. | | | | The Gateway | | By Harvey Maitland Watts |
| | The Pennsylvania Railroad Station, New York
WHAT Rome in sheer abandonment of pride | |
| Flung free on high for Purple Ease a lair, | |
| Fretted with gold, a-gleam with spoils most rare, | |
| Here, to a nobler use soars purified. | |
| While from its silent depths controllèd glide | 5 |
| The slaving monsters as the people fare— | |
| Of all things past the free, resplendent heir— | |
| Holding the earth in leash with naught untried. | |
| Lo! ’neath these vaultings how oblivion sweeps | |
| The older portals! What the Golden Horn? | 10 |
| Or Venice, dreaming where soft waters swoon? | |
| Or Atlas towering o’er grey ocean’s deep? | |
| Here, where this titan gateway greets the morn | |
| Glad millions press to life’s exultant noon! | | | | |
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