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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  John Hall Wheelock

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

Song

John Hall Wheelock

ALL my love for my sweet

I bared one day to her.

Carelessly she took it,

And like a conqueror

She bowed the neck of my soul

To fit it to her yoke,

And bridled the lips of Song—

Fear within me awoke!

But Love cried: “Swiftly, swiftly

Bear her along the road;

Beautiful is the goal

And Beauty is the goad.”