| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | When I Am Old | | By Marjorie Allen Seiffert |
| | | I STILL shall love the spring when I am old. | |
| The whisper of April rain | |
| Through grey-green days, upon my window-pane, | |
| Shall speak as now of mornings bright and fine— | |
| The days of gold, | 5 |
| When sticky buds, bursting with leafy wonder, | |
| Turn every one into a gay cockade, | |
| Worn tilted up or tilted under | |
| Those twisty April branches, bare of shade. | |
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| Though every April night is a green frame | 10 |
| For lovers, they but fit the old design | |
| Earth never has outworn; | |
| And without envy I shall say, | |
| Nodding my head, “It used to be the same | |
| In my own day!” | 15 | | | |
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