Where once the Wisdom-City’s temples rose
Within her “Gates of Gold,” our latter day
This noble pleasure ground but loves, and knows,
Nor guesses where the fanes of Tlamco lay;
Yet who shall say what spell that vanished race
Bequeathed forever to this mystic place?
For through this realm enchanted, wanderers stroll—
Or from the Seven Seas, or dwellers near—
And cares forget, while from each weary soul
Life’s heavy burden slips—till peace reigns here