Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel

The Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel is the oldest surviving hotel building in Raleigh, North Carolina. Constructed between 1923 and 1924 on Fayetteville Street and named after Sir Walter Raleigh, the hotel was nicknamed North Carolina’s “third house of government,” due to its location and being a focal point for state political activity until the 1960s. The Sir Walter Raleigh is typical of hotels of the 1920s. It is a 10-story imposing L-shaped building primarily made of brick, with classical stone ornamentation at the street and roof levels. It was placed on the National Register of Historic Places on August 11, 1978.

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    Sir Walter Raleigh might well be studied, if only for the excellence of his style, for he is remarkable in the midst of so many masters. There is a natural emphasis in his style, like a man’s tread, and a breathing space between the sentences, which the best of modern writing does not furnish. His chapters are like English parks, or say rather like a Western forest, where the larger growth keeps down the underwood, and one may ride on horseback through the openings.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    Here lies the body of Sir John Guise.
    Nobody laughs, and nobody cries;
    Where his soul is and how it fares
    Nobody knows and nobody cares.
    —Anonymous. From Frobisher’s New Select Collection of Epitaphs (c. 1791)

    But true love is a durable fire
    In the mind ever burning;
    Never sick, never old, never dead,
    From itself never turning.
    —Sir Walter Raleigh (1552?–1618)

    Sir Walter Raleigh might well be studied, if only for the excellence of his style, for he is remarkable in the midst of so many masters. There is a natural emphasis in his style, like a man’s tread, and a breathing space between the sentences, which the best of modern writing does not furnish. His chapters are like English parks, or say rather like a Western forest, where the larger growth keeps down the underwood, and one may ride on horseback through the openings.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    They all see you when you least suspect.
    Out flat in your p.j.’s glowering at T.V.
    or at the oven gassing the cat
    or at the Hotel 69 head to knee.
    Anne Sexton (1928–1974)