Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
To an Authentic PriestEdward Townsend Booth
H
He weighs me down—his arm is on
My elbow in the streakèd dawn;
Oppresses he my evening hours;
Still he outshines the manifold
Bright rays that centre in my heart.
Much loveliness I knew grows cold
The while his threatening fires start
To gnaw at this old edifice
Of sturdy lusts. Outsavors he
The savor of my ancient bliss.
He tempts me to apostasy.