Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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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.
 
 
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