Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
My Sepulchre
By Gladys Edgerton
 
THE FLAME blue of heaven glows overhead,
Under my halting feet crisp leaves burn red.
Oh, what an ecstasy now to be dead!
 
Oh, what an ecstasy now to lie down
One with the autumn earth pulsing and brown—        5
So in the sunlight to slumber and drown!
 
To drown in a sea of gold, melt into air
Crisp with the tang of frost, pungent and rare—
Sunshine my sepulchre, wind my last prayer!
 
 
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