| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | War-time Cradle Song | | By Scharmel Iris |
| | | THE KING sent out your father to war | |
| As once he sent my father before. | |
| My wedding ring and the gold on my ear | |
| Today have I bartered for bread, my dear. | |
| The moon is dying, her throat is red, | 5 |
| The wind is crying, “Your father’s dead.” | |
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| The holy priest for saying a mass | |
| Will take our gentle ox and our ass, | |
| And we must give our cow away | |
| To a man who digs the grave today. | 10 |
| The king has given us a reward— | |
| A medal of bronze, and your father’s sword. | |
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| Grain there is none on the granary floor. | |
| The lean wolf, Misery, howls at our door— | |
| Until I wake and cut off my hair. | 15 |
| My son, I will keep you strong and fair, | |
| For soon you shall take your father’s sword | |
| And bring me the king’s head for reward. | | | | |
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