Sandy hits Manhattan: Hid In Gleaming Piles Of Stone | "Give to barrows trays and pans, Grace and glimmer of romance. Bring the moonlight into noon, Hid in gleaming piles of stone; On the city's paved street. Plant gardens lined with lilac sweet, Let spouting fountains cool the air, Singing in the sun-baked square. Let statue, picture, park and hall, Ballad, flag and festival, The past restore, the day adorn, And make each morrow a new morn. So shall the drudge in dusty frock, Spy behind the city clock. Retinues of airy kings, Skirts of angels, starry wings, His fathers shining in bright fables, His children fed at heavenly tables. 'Tis the privilege of Art. Thus to play its cheerful part, Man in Earth to acclimate, And bend the exile to his fate. And, moulded of one element, With the days and firmament, Teach him on these as stairs to climb, And live on even terms with Time. Whilst upper life the slender rill, Of human sense doth overfill." - Ralph Waldo Emerson, Art by brandonstmartin