Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Not HereEdmund Wilson, Jr.
N
Have stumbled about the darkened room for a door,
Seeing only the phantom shafts the moonlight clears,
The broken bars of silver along the floor.
Away by the wind; through all the dust I can smell
A garden wet with the rain. And I am alone.
Not here, old shadows—I know you, all too well!