Elsie A. Gidlow. At the Top of the World. Harriet Monroe, ed. Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912-22

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22.

At the Top of the World

By Elsie A. Gidlow


COME to me at the top of the world,
O Mine, before the years spill
All our love into Time’s cup
And give our will to Time’s will.

My wide basin is full of starlight,	5
My moon is lighted with new fire.
I have lit every sun in the firmament
With the hurting flame of my desire.

The worms there in the valley
Die—to forget death;	10
But here at the top of the world
I laugh under my breath.

There is pain here, beloved,
And tears, terrible tears;
But the joys have warm mouths, and the madnesses	15
Dance downward with the years.

Come to me at the top of the world
O Mine! The valley is deep;
The valley is over-full with the dying,
And with those that sleep;	20

But here wonderful winds blow,
And the pines sing—one song.
Come to me at the top of the world,
Come quickly—I have waited too long.