Harold Edward Monro (14 March 1879 – 16 March 1932) was a Belgian-born British poet, publisher, bookseller and anthologist. He was a tireless supporter of contemporary English poetry, not least as publisher of Edward Marsh's Georgian Poetry series.
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- O cool glad pasture; living tree, tall corn,
Great cliff, or languid sloping sand, cold sea,
Waves: river curving; you, eternal flowers,
Give me content, while I can think of you:
Give me your living breath!
Back to your rampart, Death!
- "Living", line 36, from Alida Monro (ed.) Collected Poems (London: Duckworth,  1970) p. 13.
- Cupid has offered his arrows for Jesus to try;
He has offered his bow for the game.
But Jesus went weeping away, and left him there wondering why.
- "Children of Love", line 34, from Alida Monro (ed.) Collected Poems (London: Duckworth,  1970) p. 154.
- The children eat and wriggle and laugh,
The two old ladies stroke their silk;
But the cat is grown small and thin with desire,
Transformed to a creeping lust for milk.
- "Milk for the Cat", line 17, from Alida Monro (ed.) Collected Poems (London: Duckworth,  1970) p. 163.
- His poetry, as a whole, is more nearly the real right thing than any of the poetry of a somewhat older generation than mine except Mr. Yeats's.
- T. S. Eliot, in Alida Monro (ed.) The Collected Poems of Harold Monro (London: Cobden-Sanderson, 1933) p. xiv.