| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920. 1920. |
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| The Garden Wall |
| | | David Morton |
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| THE ROMAN wall was not more grave than this, | |
| That has no league at all with great affairs, | |
| That knows no ruder hands than clematis, | |
| No louder blasts than blowing April airs. | |
| Yet, with a gray solemnity it broods, | 5 |
| Above the walk where simple folk go past, | |
| And in its crannies keeps their transient moods, | |
| Holding their careless words unto the last. | |
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| The rains of summer, and the creeping vine | |
| That season after season clings in trust, | 10 |
| And shivered poppies red as Roman wine,— | |
| These things at last will haunt its crumbled dust— | |
| Not dreams of empires shattered where they lie, | |
But children’s laughter, birds, and bits of sky.
The Bookman | |
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