Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
A Statue in a Garden
By Agnes Lee
I
Wind, wind, delay not!
Waft my spirit where the laurel crowned me!
Will the wind stay not?
An old glory feeds me—
I lay upon the bosom of Apollo!
Not a bird heeds me.
Mine, mine, with calling!
But on my shoulders bare, like hopes forsaken,
The dead leaves are falling.
As dim down the garden
I wait and watch the early autumn sweeping.
The stalks fade and harden.
The trees, gaunt, appalling,
Attest the gloom, and on my shoulders pallid
The dead leaves are falling.