| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 91. Souls |
| | | By Fannie Stearns Davis |
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| MY soul goes clad in gorgeous things, | |
| Scarlet and gold and blue. | |
| And at her shoulder sudden wings | |
| Like long flames flicker through. | |
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| And she is swallow-fleet, and free | 5 |
| From mortal bonds and bars. | |
| She laughs, because eternity | |
| Blossoms for her with stars! | |
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| O folk who scorn my stiff gray gown, | |
| My dull and foolish face, | 10 |
| Can ye not see my soul flash down, | |
| A singing flame through space? | |
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| And folk, whose earth-stained looks I hate, | |
| Why may I not divine | |
| Your souls, that must be passionate, | 15 |
| Shining and swift, as mine? | |
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