From this Issue
Poem
From the magazine:Magic
Magic
By Louis Untermeyer
We passed old farmer Boothby in the field.
Rugged and straight he stood; his body steeled
With stubbornness and age. We met his eyes
That never flinched or turned to compromise,
And “Luck,” he cried, “good luck!”—and waved an arm,
Knotted and sailor-like, such as...
Rugged and straight he stood; his body steeled
With stubbornness and age. We met his eyes
That never flinched or turned to compromise,
And “Luck,” he cried, “good luck!”—and waved an arm,
Knotted and sailor-like, such as...
Table of Contents
- Vachel Lindsay
In Summer
Editorial Comment
- Harriet Monroe
- Ezra Pound
- Vachel Lindsay
Reviews
- Harriet Monroe
- Max Michelson
- Henry B. Fuller
Correspondence
- Alfred Kreymborg
CONTRIBUTORS
