| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Desert | | By Alfred Hitch |
| | | STRICKEN by the hand of Fate, | |
| All things, motionless, await | |
| The rain that never comes; no hope | |
| In cloudless skies. Far westward slope | |
| Low bastioned hills without a tree, | 5 |
| Dead-guarding some dread mystery. | |
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| The land lies far in weary miles, | |
| Under the sun, across the sands. | |
| An aromatic scent beguiles— | |
| Of sage, sole plant in arid lands. | 10 |
| From desert floors, wind-swept, arise | |
| Dust clouds like smoke unto the skies. | | | | |
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