| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | In the Red Cross | | By Gordon Hamilton |
| | To A. W. F.
HER near presence teases—the slender young red-head, | |
| Playing at war-work, laughing as she plays. | |
| The look in her eyes bodes a deal of mischief— | |
| God help the bold ones till she mend her ways! | |
| |
| Just passed the boundary set out for childhood— | 5 |
| Ah, there’s a breath of April with the lass, | |
| Lanes and little places with echoes of a one-step! | |
| God help the shy ones, how soon their luck will pass. | |
| |
| She never caring for the solemn moments, | |
| Dusty feet that go trampling the ground; | 10 |
| She never heeding anxious, praying persons— | |
| God help the wakeful, how her sleep is sound! | |
| |
| The fragrance of violets steals quickly upwards, | |
| All of the sky is full of shooting stars. | |
| Half of a kiss would surely never matter— | 15 |
| God help our memories, what should they be but scars! | | | | |
|
|
