Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The CompanionEmmy Veronica Sanders
Y
Batters our lonely shore;
You are in each sweet fruit
The bitter core.
You are the night that smothers
The day’s last gleam,
And in the peace of sleep
You are the fitful dream.
You are the blackness hovering
In the heart of each golden flame;
You are the threat ever changing,
Yet ever the same.
You stand at the end of each path—
The immovable dumb rock of slate.
You are the weariness
Halting our leaden gait.
Yours is the voice of the wind
Over the frozen plain
And the dark hand of the Sower
Sowing the seed of pain.
You are the mist that hides
The promise of far green hills;
And on each budding faith
You are the frost that kills.
You are the Reckoning;
You are the Shadow that follows
Each Thing.