Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
MorningSara Teasdale
I
All alone, for my heart was high.
I was a child of the shining meadow,
I was a sister of the sky.
Longing lifted its weight from me,
Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.