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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Harriet Monroe

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

Now

Harriet Monroe

Yosemite Valley

IT is creation’s morning—

Freshly the rivers run.

The cliffs, white brows adorning,

Sing to the shining sun.

The forest, plumed and crested,

Scales the steep granite wall.

The ranged peaks, glacier-breasted,

March to the festival.

The mountains dance together,

Lifting their domed heads high.

The cataract’s foamy feather

Flaunts in the streaming sky.

Somewhere a babe is borning,

Somewhere a maid is won.

It is creation’s morning—

Now is the world begun.