Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
314. The Poor
By Carl Sandburg
AMONG the mountains I wandered and saw blue haze and red crag and was amazed;
On the beach where the long push under the endless tide maneuvers, I stood silent;
Under the stars on the prairie watching the Dipper slant over the horizons grass, I was full of thoughts.
Great men, pageants of war and labor, soldiers and workers, mothers lifting their childrenthese all I touched, and felt the solemn thrill of them.
And then one day I got a true look at the Poor, millions of the Poor, patient and toiling; more patient than crags, tides, and stars; innumerable, patient as the darkness of nightand all broken, humble ruins of nations.