Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
March in TryonFlorence D. Snelling
On the upland road
Sunshine and Blue Moth
And I were abroad.
Where old leaves lay dead:
“Make straight a highway
For the Spring!” it said.
Like daffodils in a dark garden springing,
While the white moon slips down that other deep
Of West, with low clouds clinging.
We wake for day, my armored-pine and I,
But only Watchman Wind goes lightly by,
His “All’s well!” singing.
I must go.
The valleys below
Into blossom are breaking,
But snow
I shall find
On the way I am taking,
I know.
Rough with stone.
There goes none
On this journey uncharted,
Save one
Who will keep
To the heights joyous-hearted,
Alone.
Out of space
Touch my face.
There shall be no returning.
New ways
Feet must find,
And the slow lips be learning
New praise.