Explore "Dusk" by Hervey Allen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
They tell me she is beautiful, my City, / That she is colorful and quaint, alone / Among the cities. But I, I who have known / Her tenderness, her courage, and her pity, / Have felt her forces mould me, mind and bone, / Life after life, up from her first beginning.
How can I think of her in wood and stone!