Harriet Monroe
The Message Of The Wind
The wind comes riding down from heaven
Ho
wind of heaven, what do you bring
Cool for the dawn, dew for the even,
In Tuolumne Meadows
I Love to sit in the
And watch the foaming
Leap over its granite bed
I love these days that run On a burnished golden dial With the blue sky overhead
From the “Commemoration Ode”
EN dreaming kings, at odds with swift paced time, Would strike that banner down,
A nobler knight than ever writ or rhyme With fame’s bright wreath did
Through armed hosts bore it till it floated high Beyond the clouds, a light that canno...
Washington
Oh, hero of our younger race
Great builder of a temple new
Ruler, who sought no lordly place
Warrior who sheathed the sword he drew
March
I See the snow-drops flutter Their white wings in the gale
I hear the robin utter On high his gallant tale
Look where the rash wind chases With clouds the climbing sun
The day makes merry faces— Gaily her gray steeds run
The Meeting
The ox-team and the
Stood face to face on the long red road,
The long red road was
At the turn of the hill,
Deserted
O Love, my love, it's over then—Your heart flies free;
And it's now no more us two again,
The door on you and me
And it's now no more the supper spread,
Rubens
Here you are, grand old sensualist
And here are the three goddesses displaying their charms to Paris
It was all one to you &mdash goddesses, saints, court ladies &mdash Your world was all curves of flesh rolling curves repeated l...
New-Born
She is so wee,
So wise and dear Her eyes can see,
Her ears can hear,
The flowers that grow Below the snow,
The Hotel
The long resounding marble corridors, the shining parlors with shining women in them
The French room, with its gilt and garlands under plump little tumbling painted loves'
The Turkish room, with its jumble of many carpets and its stiffly...
The Mockery
Sometimes I laugh—what else can a man do Who does not know
This little ego here Braving the void, this fleck upon the blue,
This filmy wing sounding the starry sphere— What bold abysmal incongruity,
What joke of the gods to make a m...
The Shadow-Child
Why do the wheels go whirring round,
Mother, mother
Oh, mother, are they giants bound,
And will they growl forever