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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Loureine Aber

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

My Friend

Loureine Aber

From “Laurel Wreaths”

HE ran wild:

I have seen the stiff butterfly-weed by the road

Flaming—as he.

When I asked him—I who could sit every night

By a snug, safe fire—

He said:

“I was a mendicant under the Dark Reign,

And sat on a dung-hill nine years

Praying grace.

God gave me grace—

I have a wine-cup that is higher than the towers rising over Notre Dame.