| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Swamp Lilies | | By Josephine Pinckney |
| | | TODAY I feel new-born, for I have seen | |
| A stretch of cloistered wood thick-spread with green, | |
| Where wet wild lilies grew on every side, | |
| Streaming away—an immobile white tide. | |
| Not as the sun that bursts upon our eyes | 5 |
| At morning, making glory of the skies, | |
| But like the slow, pervading evening light | |
| They filled the eye—a world of silvery white | |
| Withdrawn and exquisite, as from the sod | |
| They breathed the still inviolateness of God. | 10 | | | |
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