Verse > Anthologies > Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. > The Book of New York Verse
Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed.  The Book of New York Verse.  1917.
A Dream Temple
By Edith M. Thomas
New York City

MY temple hath yon city roofs for floor;
For roof, the azure; and, to stay the roof,
A thousand alabastrine columns soar
In coiling smoke that, silent, steals aloof!
My temple builds itself at windless prime,—        5
At dawn,—or in the rosy eventime;
Ere garish midday, roof and pillar melt,—
And they are gone,—the Blest, who there have knelt!

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