Edna Dean Proctor

Poems (4)

• From "The Song of the Ancient People"

  We are the Ancient People; / Our father is the Sun; …

• Heaven, O Lord, I Cannot Lose

  Now summer finds her perfect prime; / Sweet blows the wind from western calms; …

• Heroes

  The Winds that once the Argo bore / Have died by Neptune’s ruined shrines, …

• The Brooklyn Bridge

  A Granite cliff on either shore, / A highway poised in air; …