Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Last LadyMatthew Josephson
I
Yet I do not wail bereft:
There are many, many beautiful ladies,
And in the world there is much love left.
I have made a brave good-bye.
It is terrible not to have a lady
When the summer months run high.
And the winter may be gone;
But my mind is quite decided—
I shall have no other one.
To seed new love in me.
But in another spring-time—
Ah—where shall I be?