Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
At the BanquetEunice Tietjens
From “Facets”
A
Below the jest that flies,
I catch with half-amused insistence—
A throb of music in the distance—
Your eyes!
In deeper harmonies;
With my own thoughts they interlace
Like some strange contrapuntal bass—
Your eyes…..
In them no mystery lies;
Only, between my soul and sense
Steal, half amused and half intense,
Your eyes.