Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The GateElizabeth J. Coatsworth
From “Vermilion Seals”
T
The fields are scorching in the sun;
My wife has ever a bitter word
To greet me when the day is done.
But half their words are high and shrill.
My son is over-young to help;
The fields are very hard to till.
The poet’s words come back to me:
“In the moon there is a white jade gate
Shadowed cool by a cassia tree.”