| Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222. | | | | An Old Tale | | By Marya Zaturensky |
| | From Spinners WHAT shall we say of her, | |
| Who went the path we knew of? She is dead | |
| What shall we say of her? | |
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| Men who are very old | |
| Still speak of her. They say | 5 |
| That she was far too beautiful; they say | |
| Her beauty wrought her ruin. But they | |
| Are very old. | |
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| The old wives break their threads, they shake their heads. | |
| They shake their heads when men will speak of her; | 10 |
| They say she was too beautiful. | |
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| I must not think of her, I must | |
| Not speak of her! My mother says | |
| One should not think of her. | |
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| She went the path we knew of; she is dead. | 15 |
| They say few knew her truly while she lived, | |
| Though men will speak of her. | |
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| It really does not matter she is dead. | |
| One need not think of her, although one night | |
| Folks heard her weeping yet beside a pool | 20 |
| One moonlit springtime I could swear she sang! | |
| But she is deadone must not think of her. | | | | |
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