Verse > Anthologies > Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. > The Book of New York Verse
Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed.  The Book of New York Verse.  1917.
The Moraine
By John Curtis Underwood
LOOK down, love, from the Bridge’s height
  And see the buildings piled below,
A heap of pebbles in the night
  Where stars like fireflies come and go.
Here by the border of the sea        5
  Where life has left its last moraine,
The soul of man eternally
  Resigns its pleasure and its pain.
The glacier glides into the deep,
  An endless river of the years,        10
From the far mountains where they sleep
  Who first begot our hopes and fears.
Cave-man, Crusader, scientist,
  They pass as pass the centuries;
And teach these stones to still persist        15
  To tally time’s infinities.
What does it all mean? Æons dear
  Have left Manhattan here to-day
That we might meet. Our home is here
  To share with others while we may.        20

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