| Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 404. Last Night |
| | | By Hervey White |
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| LAST night the full moon laid a cloth of white | |
| Within my window, spread upon my bed, | |
| And, with her old-time splendor, asked of me | |
| To share her harvest supper. I arose, | |
| And stepped without to pay my greetings. When, | 5 |
| Behold! | |
| The old world flowered again, as it had done | |
| When I was twenty, at the gate of life; | |
| The meadows held untouched their virgin bloom, | |
| The darkling trees with gleaming leaves flashed bright, | 10 |
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| Dewy and pendant till the waiting morn; | |
| The shadows lay like cool soft soothing hands | |
| Upon the pastures pulsing with sweet June: | |
| I, too, was young again, and God was just, | |
| And through my blood propelled great future acts | 15 |
| Big things to do, and thoughts, and voice to speak | |
| So potent was the charm of my white queen. | |
| It was not till I walked for many miles, | |
| And came back weary to my quiet room, | |
| That I had once more taken back my years, | 20 |
| My cares, my listlessness, and stagnant grief. | |
| And, even as I sit in full faced day, | |
| My memory faintly shadows out this song. | |
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