Classic Poem

I know a little hidden pool
Where happy bathers oft repair;
Secluded, clear and deep and cool,
Men find right brave refreshment there,
And swiftly doffing shirts and panties
They revel blissful — rari nantes .

Remote from scenes of toil and teen
All heat and grievance they expunge;
Enjoying in that shimmering green
The swift shock of a silver plunge,
And crying " O deorum quicquid
We thank thee for this pool: some liquid! "

Sharp glory of that dive, the first —
And thrill (but how can it be told?)
When bodies, slowly falling, burst
Into the all-encircling cold,
Then splash, or float among the ripple
As passive as a participle.

How far away, you will agree,
Must lie that cool and placid grot —
Amid the Catskill greenery?
Some distant Adirondack spot?
Yet, if you ask where is the place meant —
The Woolworth Building, in the basement!