There rise her timeless capitals of empires daily born,Whose plinths are laid at midnight and whose streets are packed at morn;And here come tired youths and maids that feign to love or sinIn tones like rusty razor blades to tunes like smitten tin.

Advertising Disclosure: Please note that many links to retailers are affiliate links, which yields a commission for us. allauthor.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon sites.