Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
RocksMary Eastwood Knevels
T
As the sea in a mist.
(O breath of my yearning, O sea, breaking gray in a fog!)
The rocks rise tumultuous, the rocks are waves.
Flee from them, they are in pursuit;
Lichen-crusted their summits, rolling most mightily.
Flee from the rocks, the pale-crested waves of the meadows!