Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
AfterwardsH. Thompson Rich
To M. E. S.
I
At times, when the curtain of dusk has fallen low
And dim strange ghosts of daylight come and go,
Gold-footed where the shadows leap and flee.
And I fancy that perhaps a memory
Lingers of silent moments we dared not know,
Of words said softly, laughter sudden and slow,
And tokens and signs and symbols we dared not see.
Curled in a deep chair, quiet and lost in thought,
Pondering curious riddles in the gloom:
Of one who came, and something that he brought;
Of one who worked, and something that he wrought;
Of one who searched, and something, that he sought.