| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Ode to Myself Trying to Sleep | | By Marjorie Meeker |
| | From “Songs of Night”
DRAW in the threads of thought— | |
| Each delicate filament, | |
| Reaching into too many places, | |
| Finding forgotten faces … | |
| Draw in the long twisting thoughts you have sent. | 5 |
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| Strange, that you lie here wondering | |
| About things that don’t matter; | |
| Strange, that you lie here pondering … | |
| And outside, the raindrops patter, | |
| A fog is on the town, | 10 |
| And over the river | |
| The drenched lights cross and quiver, | |
| And the far harsh rumble of trams goes up and down. | |
| |
| Once, like a wind, beauty swept through you; | |
| Once, like a small song that sings and sings, | 15 |
| Happiness crept through you; | |
| Once, love seemed the reason for things; | |
| And once you thought | |
| Peace had come upon you…. | |
| |
| And then all came to naught. | 20 |
| |
| Draw in the threads of thought— | |
| Each delicate filament, | |
| Quivering and bright; | |
| Draw in the long twisting thoughts you have sent. | |
| Cast all the tangled old dreaming and groping | 25 |
| To the still, deep, | |
| Strange heart of Night | |
| (Gentle forever to all grieving and hoping)— | |
| And sleep. | | | | |
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