Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222. | | Creator | By Helen Hoyt |
| From In a Certain City I REMEMBER well a certain poem, | |
The glory as it was born: | |
After long travail the glory | |
As I carved into their places | |
Those little last words that made it done. | 5 |
|
I waved the writing over my head like a flag. | |
I read it and read it again, chanting; | |
Walking under trees, chanting it to the sky. | |
|
The sound it made in my ears was beautiful, | |
And it made delicious smooth movements in my mouth, | 10 |
Made my feet dance. | |
|
I cried aloud in delight; | |
I said: It is good, | |
It is very good. | |
The joy beat in my side fast; | 15 |
Beat in my throat. | |
There were tears in my throat | |
So that I could hardly behold where I walked, | |
So that I seemed taller than the trees, | |
My head was so proud. | 20 | | |
|
|