Wampum and Old Gold: a Poem collection by Hervey Allen.

You who made me

With first ecstasy

When I was sown,

And lovely things at night

I will not write

And burdened moan,

While veiny labyrinths with mystery ran

Till time and blood were life

And I began—

By holier things than God,

Or any other shibboleth of man,

Dead woman wan,

By the thin, silver scream that winter morn

In the dim, shuttered room where I was born,

Be gone!

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