Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Never Any FearElsie A. Gidlow
I
Not of its depth nor its uttermost height,
Its exquisite pain and its terrible delight.
Never, never shall I have any fear of love.
Into the fastness of its abyss,
Nor shrink from the cruelty of its awful kiss.
I shall never hesitate to go down.
Nor any hurt it might give;
(Tender love is a sick fugitive),
I shall never dread love’s strength.
Through fear of its vast pain,
But build joy of it and count it gain.
I shall never draw back from love.
Nor shrink weakly from its touch;
I have loved too terribly and too much
Ever to have any fear of love.