Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/28

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse ::::I will have
 * Ashes,
 * Dust in my hair,
 * Crushes of hoofs.

Your name Fills the mouth Of rich man and poor.
 * Women bring

Armfuls of flowers And throw on you.


 * I go hungry
 * Down in dreams
 * And loneliness,
 * Across the rain
 * To slashed hills

Where men wait and hope for me.

For the gladness here where the sun is shining at evening on the weeds at the river,
 * Our prayer of thanks.