| Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 288. The Garret |
| | | By Ezra Pound |
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| COME let us pity those who are better off than we are. | |
| Come, my friend, and remember | |
| that the rich have butlers and no friends, | |
| And we have friends and no butlers. | |
| Come let us pity the married and the unmarried. | 5 |
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| Dawn enters with little feet | |
| like a gilded Pavlova, | |
| And I am near my desire. | |
| Nor has life in it aught better | |
| Than this hour of clear coolness, | 10 |
| the hour of waking together. | |
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