Grand Cañon of Arizona <br /> <br />Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead. Long dead <br />Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus-flower, <br />Isis of Egypt. Unto each his hour. <br />Yet thou, silent within thy temple dread, <br />Locked against prayers, mounted above the tread <br />Of climbing feet, thou from thy purple tower <br />Contemplatest the stern inscrutable power <br />Whence all things come and whither all are led. <br />The day in splendor of lilac and clear blue <br />Visits thy mighty seat. The sapphire night <br />Broods in the abyss with darkness, and the rain <br />Veils thee with clouds, hails thee and bids adieu <br />In thunder. Steadfast on thy terraced height <br />Thou seest bold time besiege thy throne in vain.<br /><br />Harriet Monroe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-temple-of-vishnu/
