| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922. |
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| A Lynmouth Widow |
| | | Amelia Josephine Burr |
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| HE was straight and strong, and his eyes were blue | |
| As the summer meeting of sky and sea, | |
| And the ruddy cliffs had a colder hue | |
| Than flushed his cheek when he married me. | |
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| We passed the porch where the swallows breed, | 5 |
| We left the little brown church behind, | |
| And I leaned on his arm, though I had no need, | |
| Only to feel him so strong and kind. | |
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| One thing I never can quite forget; | |
| It grips my throat when I try to pray— | 10 |
| The keen salt smell of a drying net | |
| That hung on the churchyard wall that day. | |
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| He would have taken a long, long grave— | |
| A long, long grave, for he stood so tall … | |
| Oh, God, the crash of a breaking wave, | 15 |
| And the smell of the nets on the churchyard wall! | |
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