Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
On the HeightEunice Tietjens
From “Facets”
T
We dallied, but we might not stay,
And all day long we set our feet
In the wind’s way.
Up to the last keen, lonely height—
Where snow-peaks clustered, sharp and frail,
Swimming in light.
And laughed above the blue abyss,
While on my happy lips I felt
Your windy kiss.
The breath of sun and air.
A bird dipped wing, and, swift and white,
Peace brooded there.