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

The Cedars

ALL down the years the fragrance came,

The mingled fragrance, with a flame,

Of cedars breathing in the sun,

The cedar-trees of Lebanon.

O thirst of song in bitter air,

And hope, wing-hurt from iron care,

What balm of myrrh and honey, won

From far-off trees of Lebanon!

Not from these eyelids yet have I

Ever beheld that early sky.

Why do they call me through the sun?—

Even the trees of Lebanon?