Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
EpitaphAlice Corbin
From “Songs from a Book of Airs”
E
For I am weary and would rest a space.
I’ve played at hide-and-seek among thy flowers,
And thou hast kindled me with sun and showers,
Hast fed and held me happy on thy knee,
And like a mother thou hast played with me:
Now I would sink upon thy breast—
Lift up thy coverlet and let me rest.