Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
GrandmotherFrances Shaw
H
When you so gently stroke my withered hand
And ask me if I like my tea,
And if the long night rested me?
O girl, my body, not my heart, is dead—
Tell me, oh, tell me what your lover said!
And what is the red flower you wear today.
I knew it once—the memory is dead.
Tell me, oh, tell me what your lover said!