Camera Work: A Photographic Quarterly (1903 (Heft 4))

quaint hell for some musicians who delight in much brass and tympani.

the ruins of the past. Sidney Allan.
How it stings one—the exuberant, violent strength of the place, sentient
with the almost forceful vitality of youth, adolescent in its tentative desire
for beauty, it makes one's blood answer at once its imperious demand for
enthusiasm. It will not always be thus. We, also, will lose our primitive
strength; but until that time when men will <cdream in crystal caves and
fashion strange secrets that murmur the music of all living things,” there is
an infinitudd of art and beauty in all this mad, useless materiality which, if
artists, blinded by achievement of former ages can not see it, will at least
give rise to a new style of architecture, rising boldly and nonchalantly from
TO THE “FLAT-IRON.”

ON ROOF and street, on park and pier
Where the " Flat-iron," gaunt, austere,
The spring-tide sun shines soft and white,
Lifts its huge tiers in limpid light.
From the city's stir and madd'ning roar
And 'mid the breezes the ocean bore
Your windows flare in the sunset light.
Lonely and lithe, o'er the nocturnal
Your windows flare in the sunset light.
City’s flickering flame, you proudly tower,
Like some ancient giant monolith,
Girt with the stars and mists that lour.
All else we see fade fast and disappear-
Only your prow-like form looms gaunt, austere,
Iron structure of the time,
As in a sea of fog, now veiled, now clear.
Rich, in showing no pretence,
Fair, in frugalness sublime,
Emblem staunch of common sense,
Well may you smile over Gotham'svast domain
For future ages will proclaim
Your beauty
For future ages will proclaim
Your beauty
Boldly, without shame.

S. H,

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