Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
A Girls SongsMary Carolyn Davies
One is set in blue,
And one has chrysoprase,
And one I wear for you.
They keep me company
All the white night through.
And when I think of death,
And how without a breath
The house is, and the night,
My three rings clinging tight
Are warm upon my hand—
My three round rings
They are living things,
And they understand.
“Don’t be afraid,” they say, and I
Pretend I would not fear to die.
Whispers to me all the night.
My heart beats and my watch ticks,
And the fear of dying pricks
Like a pin God holds, and he
Stabs my brain with it gleefully.
My watch ticks and my heart beats,
And cool and smooth are the linen sheets;
And I am alone, and the house is still,
And there are stars past the window-sill.
I think sometimes—
To fast, hear chimes,
And wear black gowns with folds; and keys;
And know the words of rosaries.
Obedience while I live
To other women; and to walk
As though I were older, and to light
Candles at saints’ feet, and talk
About himself to God at night.