| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Images | | By Richard Aldington |
| | I LIKE a gondola of green scented fruits | |
| Drifting along the dank canals at Venice, | |
| You, O exquisite one, | |
| Have entered my desolate city. | |
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II The blue smoke leaps | 5 |
| Like swirling clouds of birds vanishing. | |
| So my love leaps forth towards you, | |
| Vanishes and is renewed. | |
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III A rose-yellow moon in a pale sky | |
| When the sunset is faint vermilion | 10 |
| In the mist among the tree-boughs, | |
| Art thou to me. | |
| |
IV As a young beech-tree on the edge of a forest | |
| Stands still in the evening, | |
| Yet shudders through all its leaves in the light air | 15 |
| And seems to fear the stars— | |
| So are you still and so tremble. | |
| |
V The red deer are high on the mountain, | |
| They are beyond the last pine trees. | |
| And my desires have run with them. | 20 |
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VI The flower which the wind has shaken | |
| Is soon filled again with rain; | |
| So does my mind fill slowly with misgiving | |
| Until you return. | | | | |
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