| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Married | | By Genevieve Taggard |
| | From “The Way Things Go”
YOUR face from my face slips, | |
| Lover of my lips. | |
| Holder of my heart, | |
| For all our close companionships | |
| We are apart. | 5 |
| Apart, apart, we are apart. | |
| |
| Crying beauty leaves me dumb, | |
| Your fire cold and still. | |
| I watch the hours of morning come, | |
| And always will, | 10 |
| With this dull agony in my heart— | |
| We are apart. | |
| |
| Strong, solemn, stupid-kind, | |
| Parting, we leave behind | |
| Silence where our footsteps sound | 15 |
| Dead on the hollow ground. | |
| |
| With a singing river I used to run | |
| Wild with wonder: now | |
| There is no river, there is no sun, | |
| Only an old vow. | 20 |
| |
| And this dull chant goes through my head, | |
| And this dull moan sinks in my heart: | |
| Half of my body must be dead, | |
| We are apart. | | | | |
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