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

I Saw the Clouds

I SAW the clouds among the hills

Trailing their plumes of rainy gray.

The purple of the woods behind

Fell down to where the valley lay

In sweet satiety of rain,

With ripened fruit, and full filled grain.

I saw the graves, upon the plain,

Of pioneers, who took the land,

And tamed the stubborn elements

Till they were gentle to the hand.

Their children, now in fortune’s ways,

Dwell in their father’s palaces.

I saw some old forgotten lays;

And treasured volumes I passed by.

They were but repetitions cheap

For any hucksterer to buy.

The clouds, the graves, the worn old song,

I bear them in my heart along.