Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Saturday AfternoonGenevieve Taggard
From “The Way Things Go”
O
Up from the little stones that lie on me!
If I could stand
Still on the hill and never move my hand;
No, never beckon, no, nor wave my dress,
But only wait in heavy breathlessness—
Just stand
Still on the hill and never move my hand—
He might come up for balm; he might go down,
Careless and comforted, to town.