| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Multitudes Turn in Darkness | | By Conrad Aiken |
| | From “Many Evenings”
THE HALF-SHUT doors through which we heard that music | |
| Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence, | |
| The stars wheel out, the night grows deep. | |
| Darkness settles upon us; a vague refrain | |
| Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. | 5 |
| In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. | |
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| Where have we been? What savage chaos of music | |
| Whirls in our dreams? We suddenly rise in darkness, | |
| Open our eyes, cry out, and sleep once more. | |
| We dream we are numberless sea-waves, languidly foaming | 10 |
| A warm white moonlit shore; | |
| |
| Or clouds blown windily over a sky at midnight, | |
| Or chords of music scattered in hurrying darkness, | |
| Or a singing sound of rain….. | |
| We open our eyes and stare at the coiling darkness, | 15 |
| And enter our dreams again. | | | | |
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