| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Pelican | | By Alice Louise Jones |
| | | UNWIELDY, huge, with no defined | |
| Plexus to gauge his gravity, | |
| An ancient mariner he stands, | |
| And gravely bends his gaze on me. | |
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| His black eyes twinkle; he confirms | 5 |
| The memory of some struggling fish | |
| Caught like a jewel in his beak, | |
| Which serves him both as bowl and dish. | |
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| The fringed rock buttressing the spray, | |
| The burnished kelp, the sea, the sky, | 10 |
| He views with quiet nonchalance | |
| And elephantine majesty. | |
| |
| With legs wide-spread, and solemn mien, | |
| Like some old graybeard of the seas, | |
| He balances his heavy chest— | 15 |
| A metamorphic Socrates. | | | | |
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