Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
QuatrainsAlfred Hitch
The flowers of life, the good of ill,
Are yours if you but say, I will”—
And do you know? I could not say it!
What think’st thou of our present state?
Thou look’st quite through us, and beyond—
The eyes of Death gazing at Fate.
The fight for liberty,
A thousand battles have been won—
And still we are not free.
Infinity;
And with the blocks of time build up
Eternity.
The bird its wings;
And half the world is saved by flight
And fear of things.
To Mecca turns to pray,
So my heart, dear, turns to thee
And never turns away.
That in cruelty wreaks its fears.
To know is Love,
And Pity is Love in tears.