Ah, beautiful and pitiful! ah, last And fairest of the daughters of the Past Born out of time and in most grievous days When unto beauty men mete out no praise ! Lone Gothic princess, all your line is dead: The glory of your race is vanished: fled Is that high faith that should have found in you Its meet delight and its expression true…
from: Ode to the Woolworth Building; 'Tropicaltown and other Poems', Salomon de la Selva; 1918