Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Beside the MasterJoseph Walleser
G
Clearly I heard Him speak,
And yet I could not understand.
Sad had I been for everything;
For I had seen,
As all men sometime see,
The one dark flaw in rosy dawn.
To pluck a comfort from my days:
That I might love what would not die,
In whatsoever I had need to do
I sought for beauty.
Not many moments since,
I stood where I beheld the birth of moths.
I saw them born in suffering;
I saw their beauty;
I saw them die;
One brief hour passed
Between their birth and death.
With how much pain he labors,
How delicate His workmanship,
How careless He to cast away!
What He would have me know.