| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Apologia | | By Floyd Dell |
| | | I THINK I have no soul, | |
| Having instead two hands, sensitive and curious, | |
| And ten subtle and inquisitive fingers | |
| Which reach out continually into the world, | |
| Touching and handling all things. | 5 |
| The fascination of objects!— | |
| The marvellous shapes! | |
| Contours of faces and of dispositions, | |
| Hearts that are tender or rough to the touch, | |
| The smooth soft fabrics in which lives go clothed— | 10 |
| Hope and pity and passion: | |
| All these as I touch them delight and enchant me, | |
| And I think I could go on touching them forever. | |
| But the impulse comes into the nerves of my fingers, | |
| Into the muscles of my hands, | 15 |
| To give back this beauty in some shape | |
| Confessional of joy. | |
| And so I make these toys. | | | | |
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