| Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222. | | | | Graves of Dreams | | By Robert Rand |
| | | SO softly bright the golden twilight hung | |
| Over the graveyard where my dead dreams lay. | |
| In other times I often passed that way | |
| You see, they died so pitifully young! | |
| |
| But now I shun the graying line on line, | 5 |
| For sterner tombs are rising, crowding there, | |
| And dreams are dead full-grown, and fairoh, fair! | |
| Soon shall they all be dead, and none be mine. | | | | |
|
|