Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Night on the RiverE. Merrill Root
T
Sly hordes of shadows out of every brake;
Sky-fallen gold-fish stars that float or shake
In mirrored nets these wizard maples fling;
My oars, that dip like some light swallow’s wing;
Fire-flies, like sparks that the wind fans awake;
And moments like the bubbles that we make,
Like the frail foam that marks our voyaging!
Are not the stars, the dusk, the whispering stream,
Far whippoorwills, our boat, and we, a dream
In some mad mind? And do not all streams bear
Themselves and all they hold to one vast sea—
The waste wan waters of Eternity?