---

Harriet Monroe - The Temple Of Vishnu
Work rating: Low

Grand Cañon of Arizona 

Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead. Long dead 
Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus-flower, 
Isis of Egypt. Unto each his hour. 
Yet thou, silent within thy temple dread, 
Locked against prayers, mounted above the tread
Of climbing feet, thou from thy purple tower 
Contemplatest the stern inscrutable power 
Whence all things come and whither all are led. 
The day in splendor of lilac and clear blue 
Visits thy mighty seat. The sapphire night 
Broods in the abyss with darkness, and the rain 
Veils thee with clouds, hails thee and bids adieu 
In thunder. Steadfast on thy terraced height 
Thou seest bold time besiege thy throne in vain.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.