| Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 187. A Statue in a Garden |
| | | By Agnes Lee |
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| I WAS a goddess ere the marble found me. | |
| Wind, wind, delay not! | |
| Waft my spirit where the laurel crowned me! | |
| Will the wind stay not? | |
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| Then tarry, tarry, listen, little swallow! | 5 |
| An old glory feeds me | |
| I lay upon the bosom of Apollo! | |
| Not a bird heeds me. | |
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| For here the days are alien. Oh, to waken | |
| Mine, mine, with calling! | 10 |
| But on my shoulders bare, like hopes forsaken, | |
| The dead leaves are falling. | |
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| The sky is gray and full of unshed weeping | |
| As dim down the garden | |
| I wait and watch the early autumn sweeping. | 15 |
| The stalks fade and harden. | |
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| The souls of all the flowers afar have rallied. | |
| The trees, gaunt, appalling, | |
| Attest the gloom, and on my shoulders pallid | |
| The dead leaves are falling. | 20 |
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