| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | If You Were Careless | | By Stella Benson |
| | | IF you were careless ever, if ever a thing you missed | |
| In the forest—a serpent twist | |
| Of shadow, ensnaring the star-lit way of a tree; | |
| If at your wrist | |
| The pulse rang never, never, to the slow bells of the sea; | 5 |
| If a star, quick-carven in frost and in amethyst, | |
| Shone on the thin, thin finger of dawn, you turning away your face: | |
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| You shall be sorry, sorry, for when you die, | |
| Those three | |
| Shall follow and follow and find you | 10 |
| As you go through the Difficult Place. | |
| The strong snake-shadows shall bind you, | |
| The swords of the stars shall blind you, | |
| And the terrible bells of the sea shall crash and cry; | |
| The bells of the sea shall ring you out from under the sky, | 15 |
| In a lost grave to lie | |
| Under the ashes of space. | |
| Ah, never look back, run fast, you impotent passer-by!— | |
| Those three | |
| Run behind you. | 20 | | | |
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