| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | High Trees | | By Henry Bellamann |
| | | THERE is imprisoned day up there: | |
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| The even flow of level lights, | |
| The passing of the wilder rains, | |
| The perfect circle of the world— | |
| These, and the longer ride with sun, | 5 |
| The earlier tryst with stars, | |
| The virgin silver of the moon! | |
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| It must be well to hear | |
| The broken song of trampled dust, | |
| The long complaint of streets, | 10 |
| Soothed to uncertainty— | |
| Earth’s weaving flutter laid aside | |
| Like a folded fan. | |
| |
| See how deeply their lifted breasts | |
| Are stirred! | 15 |
| See how the highest leaf | |
| Fingers a star! | | | | |
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