dots-menu
×

Home  »  The New Poetry  »  Magic

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Magic

By Hamlin Garland

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

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,

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

I hear the furious waters leap.