Poetry, Volume 28

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Harriet Monroe
Modern Poetry Association, 1926 - American poetry
 

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Page 116 - Silent as the sleeve-worn stone Of casement ledges where the moss has grown — A poem should be wordless As the flight of birds. A poem should be motionless in time As the moon climbs; Leaving, as the moon releases Twig by twig the night-entangled trees — Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves, Memory by memory the mind.
Page 148 - SHINE, PERISHING REPUBLIC While this America settles in the mold of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire, And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens, I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth. Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother.
Page 148 - There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught— they say— God, when he walked on earth.
Page 148 - But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there are left the mountains. And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master.
Page 147 - Prophesies, prophecy that remembers, the charm of the dark. And I and my people, we are willing to love the four-score years Heartily; but as a sailor loves the sea, when the helm is for harbor. Have men's minds changed, Or the rock hidden in the deep of the waters of the soul Broken the surface? A few centuries Gone by, was none dared not to people The darkness beyond the stars with harps and habitations. But now, dear is the truth. Life is grown sweeter and lonelier, And death is no evil.
Page 116 - Of casement ledges where the moss has grown • A poem should be wordless As the flight of birds. A poem should be motionless in time As the moon climbs, Leaving, as the moon releases Twig by twig the night-entangled trees, Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves, Memory by memory the mind — A poem should be motionless in time As the moon climbs. A poem should be equal to: Not true. For all the history of grief An empty doorway and a maple leaf.
Page 146 - If joy is better than sorrow joy is not great; Peace is great, strength is great. Not for joy the stars burn, not for joy the vulture Spreads her gray sails on the air Over the mountain; not for joy the worn mountain Stands, while years like water Trench his long sides...
Page 40 - How joyous his neigh! Lo, the Turquoise Horse of Johano-ai, How joyous his neigh, There on precious hides outspread standeth he; How joyous his neigh, There on tips of fair fresh flowers feedeth he; How joyous his neigh, There of mingled waters holy drinketh he; How joyous his neigh, There he spurneth dust of glittering grains; How joyous his neigh, There in mist of sacred pollen hidden, all hidden he; How joyous his neigh, There his offspring many grow and thrive for evermore; How joyous his neigh!
Page 38 - A Brown Girl Dead WITH two white roses on her breasts, White candles at head and feet, Dark Madonna of the grave she rests; Lord Death has found her sweet.
Page 146 - ... for the blood on the sunset gold, curse France For the fields abounding and the running rivers, the lights in the cities, the laughter, curse England For the meat on the tables and the terrible gray ships, for old laws, far dominions, there remains A mightier to be cursed and a higher for malediction When America has eaten Europe and takes tribute of Asia, when the ends of the world grow aware of each other And are dogs in one kennel, they will tear The master of the hunt with the mouths of the...

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