| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Dish-washer | | By Amanda Hall |
| | | ABOVE the foam curled a light plume of steam— | |
| An airy blue embodiment of dream, | |
| That drew the tribute of her eager gaze | |
| As though it were a genie from a vase. | |
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| Her hands worked on with even rise and fall, | 5 |
| But she was not aware of them at all. | |
| A breeze came in, a stranger to the town, | |
| And set her tumblers bobbing up and down, | |
| And making tinkly music, frail and sweet, | |
| Like fairy bells you startle with your feet | 10 |
| In woodland grass. Then happily her soul | |
| Awoke to sunlight nesting in a bowl: | |
| A little crystal boat it seemed to be | |
| Upon the life and lustre of the sea. | | | | |
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