Will you glimmer on the sea?
Will you fling your spear-head
On the shore?
What note shall we pitch?
We have a song,
On the bank we share our arrows—
The loosed string tells our note:
O flight,
Bring her swiftly to our song.
She is great,
We measure her by the pine-trees.
By H.D.
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936)
The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917
