The Crown

I walk the city’s blocks, around and ’round,
While overhead, upon night’s starry glow,
Stands all of man, still, without a sound,
Above the spires a-wink in lesser show.
The Empire State, the building all men know,
That stands so proud, man’s life to consecrate,
There, high, squared shoulders proud, high forehead proud,
And proud of sculpted ledge and sky-seek line,
Speaks silently above the bowed-head crowd,
Yet roars its glory through lifted eyes of mine,
Singing words and verses, songs, of what can be—
A crown for thinking men with great work done,
A shining, glowing sign of man made free
By revolution risen like the sun!

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