| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Mary, Mary, My Love | | By Edward Sapir |
| | | WHY are you trembling so, | |
| Mary, Mary, my love? | |
| Why are your hands so cold, | |
| Your hands that burn my lips? | |
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| And the night is throbbing with us, | 5 |
| Mary, Mary, my love; | |
| But your little hands are cold, | |
| Your hands that have set me aflame. | |
| |
| I know why you tremble so, | |
| Mary, Mary, my love. | 10 |
| I know why your hands are cold, | |
| I see your eyes aflame. | |
| |
| And we are one in the silence, | |
| Mary, Mary, my love. | |
| We are one in your trembling, | 15 |
| One in our hearts aflame. | |
| We are one in the night, | |
| My Mary, Mary, beloved! | | | | |
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