Chrysler Building

Never again in our time

Shall such pinnacles leap to the sky.

These fabulous towering spires,

These airy mountains of glass,

Are the signature of an age -

A way of life that must pass.

The delicate petals of stone,

The leaves of silvered steel,

The brassy gargoyles that fling

Their snouts to the imminent sky

Are praise of a greatness that lied,

Are wreaths for a world that has died.