Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Will PowerHenry Saul Zolinsky
I
I would rather tread barefoot on thin, sharp stones,
I would rather let the blood of my veins freeze to red ice,
And the muscles of my legs stiffen to cold stone,
Than be drawn by the warm breath
Of transient things.
But … yet …
I am being drawn … I am being drawn …