| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Holiday Crowd | | By Hortense Flexner |
| | | THEY do not know they wear their wounds so plain, | |
| These covered bodies swathed in cloth and fur. | |
| They do not dream they hold their naked pain | |
| Before this show of life—the checkered stir | |
| Here in the wintry sunlight on the street. | 5 |
| And yet, like martyrs on an old church wall, | |
| They point their wounds—their bleeding hands and feet, | |
| The aching scars, and lips that drank the gall. | |
| For life has hurt them, though they will not cry | |
| “Enough”; shaped flesh to hunger quick or dead, | 10 |
| Withered them, harried, twisted bones awry, | |
| And bleached them white beneath their flying red. | |
| Strange skeletons in merry dominoes, | |
| They do not dream how plain the outline shows. | | | | |
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