| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Vain Hiding | | By Margaret Widdemer |
| | | I SAID, “I shall find peace now, for my love has never been | |
| Here in the little room, in the quiet place; | |
| The walls shall not quiver around me, nor fires begin, | |
| And I shall forget his voice and perhaps his face, | |
| And be still for a little space.” | 5 |
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| But the thought of my love beat wild against the silencing doors | |
| There in the quivering air, in the throbbing room, | |
| Till his step strode quick and light against the echoing floors, | |
| And the light of his voice was there for the placid gloom | |
| And his presence a shed perfume. | 10 |
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| So I said, “There is no peace more, for the place can never be | |
| Where the thought of him cannot come, cannot burn me through, | |
| For the thought of his touch is my flesh, and his voice is a voice in me, | |
| And what is the use of all you may say and do | |
| When love is a part of you?” | 15 | | | |
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