Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
SongAlice Corbin
From “Songs from a Book of Airs”
I
Beyond delight;
I know our bodies bare
In love unite,
Yet weep for passion’s flight.
Must fade away;
I weep because of words
That lead astray;
I weep that passion never tells
What it longs to say.
Still in vain the lover’s quest;
Like the dryads in the woods
Powerless to tell their moods—
In a world of forest spells
Never half the lover tells.