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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Harold Cook

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Lyrics

Harold Cook

I
YOUR hands—

Lilies of white flame!

Your hands

That knew …

But now,

Crossed thus

And cold,

They are more beautiful

Than eucharist lilies cooled with snow.

II
All day her hair lay spread upon the grass

Where winds pass;

(I could not pass).

And now,

Here in the midst of heaven—

In this music room,

God’s resting room—

Above angelic singing

Through my heart will pass

This memory, this song:

All day her hair lay spread upon the grass

Where winds pass;

(I could not pass).