| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Fallen | | By Loureine Aber |
| | From “Laurel Wreaths”
WHEREVER you are, | |
| O strong-throated, | |
| Husky-souled…. | |
| The sun was on your swords, | |
| The light of all time, and the still wanderings of high Romance through forest tracks. | 5 |
| Flame touched you, flame and wonder, | |
| The stars for a moment singing in your lips, | |
| The sea for an instant washing the doors of your souls,…. | |
| Wherever you are, | |
| O fallen, | 10 |
| Timid though, or gruff…. | |
| Prometheus welded your limbs | |
| And set them aflame. | |
| |
| Now we hear of you dying, | |
| And do not understand. | 15 | | | |
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