Poetry
A Magazine of Verse
A Magazine of Verse
Vol. VI
No. I
No. I
APRIL, 1915
PASSAGES FROM A POEM: THE NEW WORLD
I
CELIA was laughing. Hopefully I said:
"How shall this beauty that we share,
This love, remain aware
Beyond our happy breathing of the air?
How shall it be fulfilled and perfected?
If you were dead,
How then should I be comforted?"
But Celia knew instead:
"He who takes comfort here, shall find it there."
A halo gathered round her hair.
I looked and saw her wisdom bare
The living bosom of the countless dead . . .
And there
I laid my head.
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