| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Bathsheba | | By Robert Calvin Whitford |
| | | THE PLACE was evil. Carelessly I gazed | |
| Upon the shameless three, while one—the eyes | |
| Of her who seemed the youngest searched my heart. | |
| Pretty she was and wicked, but her eyes | |
| Were more than half divine, blue more than gray, | 5 |
| And infinitely sad and desperate | |
| Of all old virtue, like the flickering orbs | |
| Of some lean wolf that haunts the misty glow | |
| Of hunter’s fire, and howls and moans for food— | |
| Incarnate yearning. True, the girl was not | 10 |
| Honest or clean or good, and yet those eyes, | |
| A thin blue-gray, stick in my memory. | |
| A woman with such eyes I could have loved | |
| Had love meant more to her and less to me. | | | | |
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