| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917. |
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| 93. Exordium |
| | | By George Cabot Lodge |
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| SPEAK! said my soul, be stern and adequate; | |
| The sunset falls from Heaven, the year is late, | |
| Love waits with fallen tresses at thy gate | |
| And mourns for perished days. | |
| Speak! in the rigor of thy fate and mine, | 5 |
| Ere these scant, dying days, bright-lipped with wine, | |
| All one by one depart, resigned, divine, | |
| Through desert, autumn ways. | |
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| Speak! thou art lonely in thy chilly mind, | |
| With all this desperate solitude of wind, | 10 |
| The solitude of tears that make thee blind, | |
| Of wild and causeless tears. | |
| Speak! thou hast need of me, heart, hand and head, | |
| Speak, if it be an echo of thy dread, | |
| A dirge of hope, of young illusions dead— | 15 |
| Perchance God hears! | |
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