| Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Chicago Poems. 1916. |
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| 95. Aztec |
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| YOU came from the Aztecs | |
| With a copper on your fore-arms | |
| Tawnier than a sunset | |
| Saying good-by to an even river. | |
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| And I said, you remember, | 5 |
| Those fore-arms of yours | |
| Were finer than bronzes | |
| And you were glad. | |
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| It was tears | |
| And a path west | 10 |
| and a home-going | |
| when I asked | |
| Why there were scars of worn gold | |
| Where a man’s ring was fixed once | |
| On your third finger. | 15 |
| And I call you | |
| To come back | |
| before the days are longer. | |
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