Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Mother’s Son in SalonikaD. H. Lawrence
From “War Films”
T
Over your tent the one tent of us all, my love;
In whose close folds above you, near above,
The flame of my soul like a trembling star is hung.
You now as you turn your face towards the sky.
Oh, as you stand looking up, do you know it is I?
Do you lift your lips to kiss me good-night, my love?