The weedy old spires like veins in marble The old gold domes were just ancestral homes The citadels of yore with broken bronze bells and tottering towers Shadow y staircases Spiraling like ammonites The sartorial shabbiness of Dunsany denies him a place at the occult coronation Tho' gold always rises Strata of wonders q uickly pall The gleam of dreams is brighter than the glister of fossilised pagea nts Dream city
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