Dell’s family still lives in the area, and we are indebted to them for permission to reprint the following lovely poem.
Ingleside Terrace is shaped like a bow.
An arrow shot forth will fly due north.
Over the tree-tops it would go,
And the winding drives of the park below,
And fall I know not where, but yet
Perhaps in the Fourth Alphabet.
Ingleside Terrace, my dear companion,
Lies on the edge, the very ledge
Of the Park’s vast and fertile canyon;
Outside out tiny urban arc,
Immense and straggling Rock Creek Park
(Right across our narrow alley)
Dips into its deep green valley.
From our back porches can be seen
(If we reside upon that side)
In summer only a sea of green;
And on our slumbers, all night through,
Waves of coolness, sweet with dew,
Pour from those green depths: we pity
Those who live elsewhere in our city.