| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Listener | | By Bernard Raymund |
| | | I’VE been with old men | |
| Shadowy and slow, | |
| Men dead and buried | |
| A long while ago; | |
| But the songs that they sang me, | 5 |
| Grave songs and sweet, | |
| Held me the whole day | |
| Stretched at their feet. | |
| Fire danced, and water | |
| Whirled to the tune; | 10 |
| Laughter went ringing | |
| Down the long noon. | |
| But oh, what I loved most | |
| Was not song at all! | |
| Not the rich cadence, | 15 |
| The silvery fall | |
| Of passionless voices | |
| Kept me in thrall; | |
| But the unquenched ardor, | |
| Pitying, wise, | 20 |
| That lit their frail features | |
| And flamed in their eyes | |
| With a flame that transfigured | |
| Starlight and dew— | |
| The deep peace of old men | 25 |
| When singing is through. | | | | |
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