Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Hill-bornWilfrid Wilson Gibson
From “Battle”
I
I ever knew
Another life
Than this unending strife
With unseen enemies in lowland mud;
And wonder if my blood
Thrilled ever to the tune
Of clean winds blowing through an April noon
Mile after sunny mile
On the green ridges of the Windy Gile.