Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Songs in a Hospital

Open Windows

OUT of the window a sea of green trees

Lift their soft boughs like arms of a dancer;

They beckon and call me, “Come out in the sun!”

But I cannot answer.

I am alone with Weakness and Pain,

Sick abed and June is going,

I cannot keep her, she hurries by

With the silver-green of her garments blowing.

Men and women pass in the street

Glad of the shining sapphire weather;

But we know more of it than they,

Pain and I together.

They are the runners in the sun,

Breathless and blinded by the race,

But we are watchers in the shade

Who speak with Wonder face to face.