Harriet Monroe Poems

I

THE lady in front of me in the car,
With little red coils close over her ears,
...

The blue sea bends to the ship
Like a dancer with skirts of lace—
Wide diaphanous laces that curl and dip
In the ardent wind's embrace.
...

They went down to the sea in ships,
In ships they went down to the sea.
In boats hewn of oak-tree strips,
In galleys with skin-sewn sails,
...

Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead. Long dead
Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus-flower,
...

I have not where to lay my head:
Upon my breast no child shall lie;
For me no marriage feast is spread:
...

Prairie child,
Brief as dew,
What winds of wonder
Nourished you?
...

FLOWER of the moon!
Still white is her brow whom we worshiped on earth long ago;
Yea, purer than pearls in deep seas, and more virgin than snow.
...

Three crosses rose on Calvary against the iron sky,
Each with its living burden, each with its human cry.
...

I love my life, but not too well
To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell
Deep in its perfume but an hour.
...

Little brown surf-bather of the mountains!
Spirit of foam, lover of cataracts, shaking your wings in falling waters!
Have you no fear of the roar and rush when Nevada plunges --
Nevada, the shapely dancer, feeling her way with slim white fingers?
...