Poem by Trumbull Stickney

Service

Chide me not, darling, that I sing
Familiar thoughts and metres old:
Nay, do not scold
My spirit’s childish uttering.

I know not why ’t is that or this
I murmur to you thus or so:
Only I know
It throbs across my silences,

It blows over my heart,—a long
Infinite wind, again, again!
Again! and then
My life kneels down into a song.

1. On Some Shells Found Inland
2. They Lived Enamoured of the Lovely Moon
3. Be Still. The Hanging Gardens Were a Dream
4. You Say, Columbus with his Argosies
5. Loneliness

Edgar Guest Service ("You never hear the robins brag about the sweetness of their song")

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