Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Garden

YOU are clear,

O rose, cut in rock.

I could scrape the color

From the petals,

Like spilt dye from a rock.

If I could break you

I could break a tree.

If I could stir

I could break a tree,

I could break you.

O wind, rend open the heat,

Cut apart the heat,

Slit it to tatters.

Fruit cannot drop

Through this thick air;

Fruit cannot fall into heat

That presses up and blunts

The points of pears,

And rounds grapes.

Cut the heat:

Plough through it,

Turning it on either side

Of your path.