Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
To an EnemyMaxwell Bodenheim
I
I would have known myself, but they stood before the mirrors
And painted on them images of the virtues I craved.
You came with sharpest chisel, scraping away the false paint.
Then I knew and detested myself, but not you:
For glimpses of you in the glasses you uncovered
Showed me the virtues whose images you destroyed.