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The architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones,
And with him toiled his children, and read more
The architect
Built his great heart into these sculptured stones,
And with him toiled his children, and their lives
Were builded, with his own, into the walls,
As offerings unto God.
The hand that rounded Peter's dome
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome,
Wrought in a sad read more
The hand that rounded Peter's dome
And groined the aisles of Christian Rome,
Wrought in a sad sincerity;
Himself from God he could not free;
He builded better than he knew;
The conscious stone to beauty grew.
Architecture is the learned game, correct and magnificent, of forms assembled in the light.
Architecture is the learned game, correct and magnificent, of forms assembled in the light.
When I lately stood with a friend before [the cathedral of]
Amiens, . . . he asked me how read more
When I lately stood with a friend before [the cathedral of]
Amiens, . . . he asked me how it happens that we can no longer
build such piles? I replied: "Dear Alphonse, men in those days
had convictions (Ueberzeugungen), we moderns have opinions
(Meinungen) and it requires something more than an opinion to
build a Gothic cathedral.
In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
read more
In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the gods see everywhere.
The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of
the corner.
The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of
the corner.
The hasty multitude
Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise,
And some the architect: his hand was read more
The hasty multitude
Admiring enter'd, and the work some praise,
And some the architect: his hand was known
In heaven by many a tower'd structure high,
Where scepter'd angels held their residence,
And sat as princes.
No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence.
No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung.
Majestic silence.
