I've stood upon yon Mountain when the sun
Entered his cloud-built palace in the west,
Like a proud, Royal Nimrod, who had won
His home, and doffed his richest-broidered vest.
Beneath me, the vast city lay at rest;
Its great heart throbbing gently, like the close
Of Day. A prayer lay folded in my breast,
And from my lips in silence it uprose,
For heaven's blessing on that city's calm repose.