| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 111. Like Him Whose Spirit |
| | | By Arthur Davison Ficke |
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| LIKE him whose spirit in the blaze of noon | |
| Still keeps the memory of one secret star | |
| That in the dusk of a remembered June | |
| Thrilled the strange hour with beauty from afar— | |
| And perilous spells of twilight snare his heart, | 5 |
| And wistful moods his common thoughts subdue, | |
| And life seethes by him utterly apart— | |
| Last night I dreamed, today I dream, of you. | |
| Gleams downward strike; bright bubbles upward hover | |
| Through the charmed air; far sea-winds cool my brow. | 10 |
| Invisible lips tell me I shall discover | |
| Today a temple, a mystery, a vow … | |
| The cycle rounds: only the false seems true. | |
| Last night I dreamed, today I dream, of you. | |
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