William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.
Alone in Spring
I
The flowers, birds, the loveliness of trees,
For with me always there was one I love—
And love is shield against such gifts as these.
The days and nights one long remembering.
Did other Aprils that we shared possess
The hurting beauty of this living Spring?
My starving grief—this radiance of gold!…
To be alone, when Spring is being born,
One should be dead—or suddenly grown old.