Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
All Souls EveFlorence Kilpatrick Mixter
H
Forgotten now their pride
Who on this night would have us know
They passed unsatisfied.
Upon a sapless tree,
Clinging with palsied, withered might
To their identity.
That die before the dawn;
And each one has some tale to tell,
And, having told, is gone.
…………
Ah!—you who come with sea-blue eyes,
And dead these hundred years,
Be satisfied! I hold the cup
Still brimming with your tears.