Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
BallsAmy Lowell
T
And cast the yellow ball straight at the buzzing stars.
to impossible distances.
And in the end what have we?
A tired arm—a tip-tilted nose.
Wouldn’t it be a fine thing if I could make it stick
On top of the Methodist steeple?