Silence that weeps in my heart.
Ashes on my hearth and the cry of a lonely bird at the window.
The trees that shiver in the wind.
And youth passing by-
… To listen and hear no footstep….
— Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff, from “The Book of Love,” Poetica Erotica . (New York : M. Kennerley, 1917)