Mountain Song
I have not where to lay my head:
Upon my breast no child shall lie;
For me no marriage feast is spread:
I walk alone under the sky.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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At The Grand Cañon
Wind of the desert, softly blow
Across the cañon shining wide.
Lightly among the temples go
That rise in towers of pride.
Soft, lest they float away
Out in the azure day!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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New-Born
She is so wee,
So wise and dear
Her eyes can see,
Her ears can hear,
The flowers that grow
Below the snow,
The birds that peep
In their eggs asleep,
The songs we sing her
No other has heard,
The love we bring her
With never a word.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Melodies
The patter of a baby's feet
Upon the floor,
His babble at the door—
Ah, these are sounds too sweet, too sweet!
Blue sky, save me from tears!
Soft summer wind, stop up mine ears!
The patter of a baby's feet,
His chatter—oh, too tender sweet !
poem by Harriet Monroe
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A Farewell
GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve that it is over—
The perfect hour;
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,
Flits from the flower.
Grieve not,—it is the law. Love will be flying—
Yea, love and all.
Glad was the living; blessed be the dying!
Let the leaves fall.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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The Blue Ridge
STILL and calm,
In purple robes of kings,
The low-lying mountains sleep at the edge of the world.
The forests cover them like mantles;
Day and night
Rise and fall over them like the wash of waves.
Asleep, they reign.
Silent, they say all.
Hush me, O slumbering mountains -
Send me dreams.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Wings
Pearl-gray is the sky,
And high within it, sailing by,
Three sea-gulls fly.
Pearl-white are they
Against the sky's obscurer gray—
Sea-foam astray.
Gulls, sea-gulls white,
Drift of the day, drift of the night,
Mine be your flight!
Out—out, with you
Beyond the noise, into the blue!
Ah—if I knew!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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The Garden
Hiding under the hill,
Heavy with trailing robes and tangled veils of green,
Till only its little haggard face was visible,
The garden lay shy and wistful,
Lovelorn for summer departing,
Blowing its little trickling fountain tune into the air.
And over all, hushing, soothing,
Lay the clematis
Like early snow.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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The Message Of The Wind
The wind comes riding down from heaven.
Ho! wind of heaven, what do you bring?
Cool for the dawn, dew for the even,
And every sweetest thing.
O wind of heaven, from pink clouds driven,
What do you bring to me?
The low call of thy love who waits
Under the willow tree,
Whose boat upon the water waits
For me, for thee.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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In The Beginning
WHEN sunshine met the wave,
Then love was born;
Then Venus rose to save
A world forlorn.
For light a thousand wings
Of joy unfurled,
And bound with golden rings
The icy world.
And color flamed the earth
With glad desire,
Till life sprang to the birth,
Fire answering fire,
And so the world awoke,
And all was done,
When first the ocean spoke
Unto the sun.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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