| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | “Fire and Sleet and Candle-light” | | By Elinor Wylie |
| | From “Still Colors”
FOR this you’ve striven, | |
| Daring, to fail: | |
| Your sky is riven | |
| Like a tearing veil. | |
| |
| For this, you’ve wasted | 5 |
| Wings of your youth; | |
| Divined, and tasted | |
| Bitter springs of truth. | |
| |
| From sand unslakèd | |
| Twisted strong cords, | 10 |
| And wandered naked | |
| Among trysted swords. | |
| |
| There’s a word unspoken, | |
| A knot untied. | |
| Whatever is broken | 15 |
| The earth may hide. | |
| |
| The road was jagged | |
| Over sharp stones: | |
| Your body’s too ragged | |
| To cover your bones. | 20 |
| |
| The wind scatters | |
| Tears upon dust; | |
| Your soul’s in tatters | |
| Where the spears thrust. | |
| |
| Your race is ended— | 25 |
| See, it is run: | |
| Nothing is mended | |
| Under the sun. | |
| |
| Straight as an arrow | |
| You fall to a sleep | 30 |
| Not too narrow | |
| And not too deep. | | | | |
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