Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
By Louis Untermeyer
  BEAUTY shall not lead me—
No, on no more passionate and never-ending quests.
I am tired of stumbling after her
Through wild, familiar forests and strange morasses—
Tired of breaking my heart and losing my sleep, following a fitful gleam.        5
  Beauty, you shall fly before me no longer—
Smiling, looking back over your shoulder with beckoning blushes—
Wanton, trickster, trifler with weak men;
Demanding all and giving nothing in return
But furious dreams and shattering visions.        10
  Beauty, I shall have you—
Not in imagination only, but in the flesh.
You will pursue me with untiring breath, you will press by my side wherever I go.
Even in the muddy squalor and the thick welter of ugliness,
You shall run to me and put your arms about my hips, and cling to me;        15
And, try as I will, you will never be shaken off.
  Beauty, I know you now—
And knowing (and loving) you, I will thirst for you no longer …
Yes, I shall have you—
For I shall run on recklessly        20
And you will follow after!

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