| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 243. God’s World |
| | | By Edna St. Vincent Millay |
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| O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough! | |
| Thy winds, thy wide gray skies! | |
| Thy mists, that roll and rise! | |
| Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag | |
| And all but cry with color! That gaunt crag | 5 |
| To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff! | |
| World, world, I cannot get thee close enough! | |
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| Long have I known a glory in it all | |
| But never knew I this. | |
| Here such a passion is | 10 |
| As stretcheth me apart. Lord, I do fear | |
| Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year. | |
| My soul is all but out of me—let fall | |
| No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call. | |
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