To the unknown builder of the Cathedral of Cologne

Unknown great Master! whose creative thought
Is here inscribed, though from Fame's shining scroll
Thy name is lost, this wondrous dome is fraught
With the expression of thy reverent soul.
Immortal, in each curve and line inwrought;
As in the vast, harmonious, perfect whole:
We see buttress, tower, and pinnacle that reach
In forests of great columns, towering high,
With deep grooved arches interlacing each,
Lift their bold outlines dark against the sky.
It rises like a vision in mid-air, indeed
A temple meet for a divine abode;
The embodied symbol of man's highest creed;
A symphony in stone; a thought of God.

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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