| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Forest of Dead Trees | | By Mark Turbyfill |
| | | I CLIMBED up the rough mountain-side | |
| Through the forest of dead trees. | |
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| I touched their smooth, stark limbs, | |
| And learned much of the white beauty of death. | |
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| Whose taut, slender thigh was this? | 5 |
| And this, whose gracious throat? | |
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| O life, you are not more beautiful | |
| Than this silent, curving death is beautiful! | |
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| And Eternity— | |
| I think I heard it cry: | 10 |
| “Centre within centre, | |
| Death or Life, | |
| One am I.” | | | | |
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