<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429746" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nuremberg</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">So quiet it was in that high, sun-steeped room,<br>So warm and still, that sometimes with the light<br>Through the great windows, bright with bottle-panes,<br>There’d float a chime from clock-jacks out of sight,<br>Clapping iron mallets on green copper gongs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But only in blown music from the town’s<br>Quaint horologe could Time intrude . . . you’d say<br>Clocks had been bolted out, the flux of years<br>Defied, and that high chamber sealed away<br>From earthly change by some old alchemist.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, oh, those thousand towers of Nuremberg<br>Flowering like leaden trees outside the panes:<br>Those gabled roofs with smoking cowls, and those<br>Encrusted spires of stone, those golden vanes<br>On shining housetops paved with scarlet tiles!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all day nine wrought-pewter manticores<br>Blinked from their spouting faucets, not five steps<br>Across the cobbled street, or, peering through<br>The rounds of glass, espied that sun-flushed room<br>With Dürer graving at intaglios.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy nine, spouting your dew all day<br>In green-scaled rows of metal, whilst the town<br>Moves peacefully below in quiet joy . . .<br>O happy gargoyles to be gazing down<br>On Albrecht Dürer and his plates of iron!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Kenneth+Slessor">Kenneth Slessor</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429746" data-title="Nuremberg de Kenneth Slessor" data-description="So quiet it was in that high, sun-steeped room, So warm and still, that sometimes with the light Through the great windows, bright with bottle-panes, There’d float a chime from clock-jacks out of sight, Clapping iron mallets on green copper gong..."></div> </div> </div>

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