| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Love-Songs of the Open Road | | By Kendall Banning |
| | MORNING THE MORNING wind is wooing me; her lips have swept my brow. | |
| Was ever dawn so sweet before? the land so fair as now? | |
| The wanderlust is luring to wherever roads may lead, | |
| While yet the dew is on the hedge. So how can I but heed? | |
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| The forest whispers of its shades; of haunts where we have been,— | 5 |
| And where may friends be better made than under God’s green inn? | |
| Your mouth is warm and laughing and your voice is calling low, | |
| While yet the dew is on the hedge. So how can I but go? | |
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NOON The bees are humming, humming in the clover; | |
| The bobolink is singing in the rye; | 10 |
| The brook is purling, purling in the valley, | |
| And the river’s laughing, radiant, to the sky! | |
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| The buttercups are nodding in the sunlight; | |
| The winds are whispering, whispering to the pine; | |
| The joy of June has found me; as an aureole it’s crowned me | 15 |
| Because, oh best belovèd, you are mine! | |
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| NIGHT In Arcady by moonlight, | |
| (Where only lovers go), | |
| There is a pool where only | |
| The fairest roses grow. | 20 |
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| Why are the moonlit roses | |
| So sweet beyond compare? | |
| Among their purple shadows | |
| My love is waiting there. * * * * * | |
| To Arcady by moonlight | 25 |
| The roads are open wide, | |
| But only joy can enter | |
| And only joy abide. | |
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| There is the peace unending | |
| That perfect faith can know— | 30 |
| In Arcady by moonlight, | |
| Where only lovers go. | | | |
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