Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The AnswerAgnes Lee
W
You seem to be dreaming—
Wave, wave—
In the sunbeams warm.
Wave, wave,
What are you, what are you—
Wave, wave—
Of the changing form?
All day with my ripples the shore I pave.
They say you are pitiless—
Wave, wave—
When the ships outroam.
Wave, wave,
They call you a savior—
Wave, wave—
When the ships come home.
I am a round bright beautiful wave.