| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Fugitive | | By Gladys Cromwell |
| | | FOOL, fool, | |
| They can hear thy frighted feet, | |
| And they poke fun at thee, | |
| Or pity thee, | |
| Or pity thee. | 5 |
| They can hear thy steps retreat, | |
| Shuffling timidly. | |
| |
| Thy gait is hobbling and uncouth, | |
| For stubborn is earth’s clay; | |
| There was a day, | 10 |
| There was a day, | |
| When from the doom of its own youth, | |
| Thy spirit stole away. | |
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| Do they not know thy spirit’s home? | |
| Thy spirit, glancing, glides | 15 |
| Beneath all tides, | |
| Beneath all tides. | |
| It is a coral under foam; | |
| In the cool deep it hides. | |
| |
| For lo, the yielding element | 20 |
| Of immortality | |
| Is like the sea, | |
| Is like the sea. | |
| Do they not hear, in wonderment, | |
| The tides enfolding thee? | 25 | | | |
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