| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Gray | | By William Rose Benét |
| | From “Green and Gray”
FOLD on fold the purple, crimson then— | |
| Gold? I shook my head and turned away. | |
| What? I turned and glared in that barbaric den. | |
| “Gray!” | |
| |
| Ashes, rats! You cannot, cannot mean it, surely? | 5 |
| “Yes,” I chirped, “I’m weary; I have had a day; | |
| One thing only suits me, purely and demurely— | |
| Gray.” | |
| |
| Doves and twilight seas, fog and thistle-down, | |
| Granite quarried too; pearl, with all array | 10 |
| Of colors quenched within. But you said—a clown!— | |
| Gray! | |
| |
| “Yes, I understand; but you don’t understand | |
| I’m the clown of heaven and mean to have my way. | |
| Cut me cloak and doublet. This is my command— | 15 |
| Gray!” | | | | |
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