Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Chaste LoversGlenway Wescott
From “Still-hunt”
S
Drops from a cloud.
The shackles click,
Yet never loud,
Of the frost—
A road we know,
Yet still are lost
Of its cold
Mile after mile
Till we are old.
Together form
Procession or cavalcade
Minute as a worm.
And to these even less kind—
The bottomless beauty of body,
The bottomless pomp of mind.
We eye the crows,
Or watch the weasel where it went,
Or hail the wind that blows.