Biography of Harriet Monroe
Harriet Monroe was an American editor, scholar, literary critic, and patron of the arts. Monroe is best known as the founder and long time editor of Poetry Magazine. She was born in Chicago, Illinois. She graduated from the Visitation Academy of Georgetown, D.C., in 1879, and afterward devoted herself to literary work.
Monroe was the first editor at Poetry Magazine when she founded it in 1912. From her position as editor, she played a role in the development of modern poetry, both as an early publisher and as a supporter of poets such as Ezra Pound, H. D., T. S. Eliot, William Carlos Williams , Carl Sandburg and others.
Additionally, Monroe was a long time correspondent of the poets she supported, and her letters provide a wealth of information on the thoughts and motives of modernist poets. She was also a member of the Eagle's Nest Art Colony in Ogle County, Illinois.
Monroe was a member of the Eagle's Nest Art Colony in Ogle County, Illinois, and is mentioned in Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City.
She was the sister-in-law of the Chicago architect John Wellborn Root.
She died in Arequipa, Peru.
Harriet Monroe's Works:
Valeria and Other Poems, [Chicago, IL], 1891.
Commemoration Ode, Rand, McNally (Chicago, IL), 1892, republished as The Columbian Ode, W. I. Way (Chicago, IL), 1893.
John Wellborn Root: A Study of His Life and Work, Houghton, Mifflin (Boston, MA), 1896.
The Passing Show: Five Modern Plays in Verse, Houghton, Mifflin (Boston, MA), 1903.
The Dance of Seasons, Ralph Fletcher Seymour (Chicago, IL), 1911.
You and I, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1914.
(Editor with Alice Corbin Henderson) The New Poetry: An Anthology, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1917, revised and enlarged as The New Poetry: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Verse in English, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1923.
The Difference and Other Poems, Covici-McGee (Chicago, IL), 1924.
Poets and Their Art, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1926, revised and enlarged edition, 1932.
Chosen Poems: A Selection from My Books of Verse, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1935.
A Poet's Life: Seventy Years in a Changing World, Macmillan (New York, NY), 1938.
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Harriet Monroe Poems
April -- North Carolina
Would you not be in Tryon Now that the spring is here, When mocking-birds are praising The fresh, the blossomy year?
The Message Of The Wind
The wind comes riding down from heaven. Ho! wind of heaven, what do you bring? Cool for the dawn, dew for the even, And every sweetest thing.
In The Beginning
WHEN sunshine met the wave, Then love was born; Then Venus rose to save A world forlorn.
GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve that it is over— The perfect hour; That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover, Flits from the flower.
The forest was a shrine for her, A temple richly dressed; And worshippers the tall trees were, Each to his prayer addressed.
The Fisk Street turbine power station in Chicago The invisible wheels go softly round and round— Light is the tread of brazen-footed Power.
Dance Of The Seasons
Allegro Wake ! wake ! Out of the snow and the mist,
Battle-Flags Of Illinois
Through the red dusk of war they flew From Shiloh to the sea. Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew Withered the colors three,
A Letter To One Far Away
Dear Wanderer— The sky is gray, With flecks of blue The clouds rush over.
You are a painter—listen— I'll paint you a picture too! Of the long white lights that glisten Through Michigan Avenue;
For A Child
Still he lies, Pale, wan, and strangely wise. Under the white coverlet He lies here sleeping yet,
A Little Old Maid
She grew, like other girls and flowers, Sheltered and tended daintily; And told her dolls, through sunny hours,
In The Louvre
Queen Karomana, slim you stand, In bronze with little flecks of gold— Queen Karomana. O royal lady, lift your hand,
At The Summit
Where bold Sierras cut the sky Mount Whitney, of the high most high, Halts the pale clouds that wander by.
A Letter From Peking
October I5th, 1910.
My friend, dear friend, why should I hear your voice
Over the Babel of voices, suddenly
Calling as from the new world to the old?
Hush!—are you weary? would you follow me?
Would you make dark the house, and shut the door,
Summon steam-pacing trains, wave-racing ships,
To bear you past the high assembled nations—
Past the loud cries, the plucking hands of the age—