| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | War Baby | | By D. H. Lawrence |
| | | THE CHILD, like a mustard seed, | |
| Rolls out of the husk of death | |
| Into the woman’s fertile, fathomless lap. | |
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| Look—it has taken root! | |
| See how it flourisheth! | 5 |
| See how it rises with magical, rosy sap! | |
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| As for our faith, it was there | |
| When we did not know, did not care; | |
| It fell from our husk like a little hasty seed. | |
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| Sing—it is all we need. | 10 |
| Sing, for the little weed | |
| Will flourish its branches in heaven when we slumber beneath. | | | | |
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