| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | She Sits Vacant-eyed | | By Edward Sapir |
| | From “Backwater”
SURELY, surely, there is something for me, | |
| There is something to fill my spirit’s measure. | |
| Winds tell, rains tell— | |
| Somewhere, somewhere is my treasure. | |
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| They promised it me when a raven spoke | 5 |
| Back in the reaches of maidenhood. | |
| He spoke for God, he spoke well— | |
| I am groping for what I then understood. | |
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| Ten thousand pathways ran to treasure— | |
| The raven spoke, I saw the vision. | 10 |
| Suns burn, moons burn— | |
| God, God! I am sitting in prison! | |
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| Surely, surely, there is something for me— | |
| There is something to fill my spirit whole. | |
| Sun, burn! sun, burn! | 15 |
| Pity me, make a blaze of my soul! | | | | |
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