Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Trail Up-skyWilliam H. Simpson
From “Along Old Trails”
T
Fades that last whiteness of the moon.
The face of noon is wrinkled, old—
Like Pablo’s, of the sheepfold,
Who has seen all youth go by
On the long trail, up-sky.
At her turquoise gates
To fondle us,
And sing and sing,
With croon of mothering.
Ask not why,
On the long trail up-sky.