| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922. |
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| Which |
| | | Corinne Roosevelt Robinson |
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| WE ask that Love shall rise to the divine, | |
| And yet we crave him very human, too; | |
| Our hearts would drain the crimson of his wine, | |
| Our souls despise him if he prove untrue! | |
| Poor Love! I hardly see what you can do! | 5 |
| We know all human things are weak and frail, | |
| And yet we claim that very part of you, | |
| Then, inconsistent, blame you if you fail. | |
| When you would soar, ’t is we who clip your wings, | |
| Although we weep because you faint and fall. | 10 |
| Alas! it seems we want so many things, | |
| That no dear love could ever grant them all! | |
| Which shall we choose, the human or divine, | |
| The crystal stream, or yet the crimson wine? | |
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