THE wealth of the city hardens The heart of enterprise, But along the river gardens Another richness lies. Their wiles of commercial duty Enchant men and enchain; The things they do for beauty Unlock the fetters again. When I was but a little boy I took all things for granted; Gardens flowered in natural joy, Groves were easily planted. But now I know that from men's infinite loves The peace comes on the Yarra's autumn groves; Only by prescient love and infinite care Rich shadows move upon the river there. A low wind checks the ruffling current's speed, And shadows of the silver bridges quiver Faint in the friendly torrent of the river; Love sets her wonder in the approaching night (The things men do for love are fair indeed!) With rows of radiant lamps whose kindly light Searches the sea-gulls in their bayward flight. So I have forgotten the day's duress, The dungeoned offices, the liftmen pale In the cellar draught, the clock's eternal flail, And all that fever of aimlessness. These gardens, these towers shall abide In their power of changeless peace, In their moods of changing light, 'Mid tides of time and the arrogant caprice Of law and regulation they will abide As homes for gods and saints and wonders bright With eternal truth and loveliness and pride Of breathing Spirit! surely, these will abide! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARSHALL WASHER by HAYDEN CARRUTH I'VE NOTHING TO OFFER by DAVID IGNATOW A BIRTHDAY SONG by SIDNEY LANIER |