| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Mountain Woman | | By DuBose Heyward |
| | | AMONG the sullen peaks she stood at bay | |
| And paid life’s hard account from her small store. | |
| Knowing the code of mountain wives, she bore | |
| The burden of the days without a sigh; | |
| And, sharp against the somber winter sky, | 5 |
| I saw her drive her steers afield each day. | |
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| Hers was the hand that sunk the furrows deep | |
| Across the rocky, grudging southern slope. | |
| At first youth left her face, and later hope; | |
| Yet through each mocking spring and barren fall, | 10 |
| She reared her lusty brood, and gave them all | |
| That gladder wives and mothers love to keep. | |
| |
| And when the sheriff shot her eldest son | |
| Beside his still, so well she knew her part, | |
| She gave no healing tears to ease her heart; | 15 |
| But took the blow upstanding, with her eyes | |
| As drear and bitter as the winter skies. | |
| Seeing her then, I thought that she had won. | |
| |
| But yesterday her man returned too soon | |
| And found her tending, with a reverent touch, | 20 |
| One scarlet bloom; and, having drunk too much, | |
| He snatched its flame and quenched it in the dirt. | |
| Then, like a creature with a mortal hurt, | |
| She fell, and wept away the afternoon. | | | | |
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