Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Tragedienne

A STORM is riding on the tide;

Grey is the day and grey the tide,

Far-off the sea-gulls wheel and cry—

A storm draws near upon the tide;

A city lifts its minarets

To winds that from the desert sweep,

And prisoned Arab women weep

Below the domes and minarets;

Upon a hill in Thessaly

Stand broken columns in a line

About a cold forgotten shrine,

Beneath a moon in Thessaly:

But in the world there is no place

So desolate as your tragic face.