Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Song of a Factory GirlMarya Zaturensky
From “Spinners”
I
So I ran to the little park,
As a lover runs from a crowded ball
To the moonlit dark.
Who is doomed to die,
Wistfully watching from a hill
The unmarred sky.
Till my heart caught flame;
And my soul, that I thought was crushed or dead,
Uttered a name.
For a long time;
But it stirred in me as the seed in sod,
Or a broken rhyme.