| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 130. Magic |
| | | By Hamlin Garland |
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| WITHIN my hand I hold | |
| A piece of lichen-spotted stone— | |
| Each fleck red-gold— | |
| And with closed eyes I hear the moan | |
| Of solemn winds round naked crags | 5 |
| Of Colorado’s mountains. The snow | |
| Lies deep about me. Gray and old | |
| Hags of cedars, gaunt and bare, | |
| With streaming, tangled hair, | |
| Snarl endlessly. White-winged and proud, | 10 |
| With stately step and queenly air, | |
| A glittering, cool and silent cloud | |
| Upon me sails. | |
| The wind wails, | |
| And from the cañon stem and steep | 15 |
| I hear the furious waters leap. | |
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