| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Lover—In Strawberry Time | | By Florence Randal Livesay |
| | From “Slavic Songs”
While I pick the berries sweet | |
| In the woods near where you live, | |
| Oh, Kohanka, let us meet— | |
| Happiness to me you’ll give. | |
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| Kokhanits, I’ve much to do, | 5 |
| I’ve no time to roam about— | |
| Not an hour to play with you | |
| Lest my fire may go out. | |
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| Oh, Kohanka, how you slave! | |
| You would surely lose your life | 10 |
| If forevermore you gave | |
| All your time to clean a knife. | |
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| I was born, O vagrant one, | |
| Not to sit in rocking-chair; | |
| Happier I when all is done | 15 |
| Than a rich man’s daughter fair. | |
| |
| She has but her hair to curl— | |
| I make all things fair to see. | |
| Work has never killed a girl; | |
| Work will never finish me. | 20 | | | |
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