| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Old Town | | By Edward Sapir |
| | From “Backwater”
OH, let me not enter the old town, | |
| The straggling street! | |
| Oh, I fear, I fear the going down | |
| On stumbling feet! | |
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| Oh, let me not grope down the dim way | 5 |
| To the pitchy sea, | |
| Unlit of a moon or a dim ray | |
| Through a cavernous tree. | |
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| All, all they will take from me | |
| By the black shore; | 10 |
| The ancients will steal me silently | |
| The purple I wore. | |
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| They will steal my love, they will steal my hate, | |
| I shall tremble bare; | |
| They will make my body cold and straight | 15 |
| And lay me there | |
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| Where my childhood sleeps forever and ever. | |
| Oh, I fear, | |
| I fear the town that ever and ever | |
| I’m coming near. | 20 | | | |
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