Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
One Listens
By Louise Adèle Carter
 
I HEARD Death singing.
  Lone was the darkening way;
The song was a glad song, ringing
  Far, faint and gay;
But pale poppies were clinging        5
  To the feet that went that way.
 
Gay, faint bugles of Death
  Airily blowing;
Poppies of strange, cold breath
  Frailly growing;        10
And around and above and beneath
  A faint wind blowing.
 
A weak wind wearily blowing,
  Like a blown winding-sheet,
That wrapped me in its dread flowing        15
  From face to feet;
A wind that seemed as if blowing
  Between the earth and my feet.
 
Far—farther than wonder
  Could follow, or dreams,        20
The sunken sun lay under
  The furthest streams;
Far beyond longing or wonder,
  Or dreams.
 
Death’s song like a nightingale’s cry        25
  Through that lone dark,
Pierced it, wildly and high;
  And my heart said, Hark!—
’Tis the nightingale’s cry!
  Nay, said my soul, the lark!        30
 
But poppies impeded my treading;
  Sleep and great fear fell upon me—
What dews of what cold shedding
  Were these shed upon me?
Behind me no way for treading,        35
  No way beyond me.
 
And gay, faint bugles of Death
  Airily blowing;
Poppies of strange cold breath
  Frailly growing;        40
And around and above and beneath
  A faint wind blowing.
 
 
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