William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.

Gesture

MY arms were always quiet,

Close and never freed,

I was furled like a banner,

Enfolded like a seed.

I thought, when Love shall strike me,

Each arm will start and spring,

Unloosen like a petal,

And open like a wing.

Oh Love—my arms are lifted,

But not to sway and toss,

They strain out wide and wounded

Like arms upon a cross.

The North American Review