| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores | | By Wallace Stevens |
| | From “Sur Ma Guzzla Gracile”
I SAY now, Fernando, that on that day | |
| The mind roamed as a moth roams, | |
| Among the blooms beyond the open sand; | |
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| And that whatever noise the motion of the waves | |
| Made on the sea-weeds and the covered stones | 5 |
| Disturbed not even the most idle ear. | |
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| Then it was that that monstered moth | |
| Which had lain folded against the blue | |
| And the colored purple of the lazy sea, | |
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| And which had drowsed along the bony shores, | 10 |
| Shut to the blather that the water made, | |
| Rose up besprent and sought the flaming red | |
| |
| Dabbled with yellow pollen—red as red | |
| As the flag above the old café— | |
| And roamed there all the stupid afternoon. | 15 | | | |
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