Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Cythaera and the SongMarjorie Allen Seiffert
The narrow door
Is open to the starlight. Let us go,
Beloved, toward the night.
It is like wind blowing through withered grass,
While from our hearts no word
Disturbs the silence where we pass:
Like fireflies, our fingers still are young;
Our spirits have forgotten much—
Night is a song in a forgotten tongue.
Our lives into the night—our bodies sway,
We gesture bravely with our hands;
Our spirits cling
To the safe nothingness of yesterday.
Laughing, breathless, desperate, we return
To the narrow door.