Quatrains

I
Give to brave deeds emblazoned shrines
Where reverent memories may throng.
For them Art draws her perfect lines
In stone, in color, and in song.

II
For the Sierra Club Lodge in Yosemite Valley

Here, traveller, pause along your upward way—
Enter and rest, and search your soul today.
High are the mountains where your feet would fare—
Let wisdom lead, that joy may find you there.

III
The Monument by Saint-Gaudens in Rock Creek Cemetery, Washington

I WAS a woman who now sleep so still.
I laughed and wept, I loved and had my will.
Com'st thou to question? com'st thou here to
pray? Life nor death matters now, nor good nor ill.

poem by Harriet Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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