Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
The House of Laurels
By Carlyle F. McIntyre
 
From “Rodomontades”

GRAY in eternal twilight are its hills,
  The country where my house is hidden away;
And melancholy with blind whippoorwills
  That cannot fly to hunt their vanished day.
 
Low sombre woods of crimson mulberries        5
  Beckon the desperate traveller to drain
A skin of their rich juice. Oh, here is peace
  For restlessness, for sorrow, and for pain.
 
The houses are of solid marble-stone
  And only large enough for one to sleep.        10
Hence, fathers from their children live alone;
  Lovers are parted as by hatred deep.
 
I pass the quiet porches of my friends;
  The eyeless walls give me no greeting sign.
One more turn to the left, and the road ends….        15
  The house with laurels at the door is mine.
 
 
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