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Poem by Elinor Wylie


The Crooked Stick


First Traveller: What’s that lying in the dust? 
Second Traveller: A crooked stick. 
First Traveller: What’s it worth, if you can trust to arithmetic? 
Second Traveller: Isn’t this a riddle? 
First Traveller: No, a trick. 
Second Traveller:It’s worthless, leave it where it lies. 
First Traveller: Wait; count ten; 
Rub a little dust upon your eyes; 
Now, look again. 
Second Traveller: Well, and what the devil is it, then? 
First Traveller: It’s the sort of crooked stick that shepherds know. 
Second Traveller: Someone’s loss! 
First Traveller: Bend it, and you make of it a bow. 
Break it, a cross. 
Second Traveller: But it’s all grown over with moss!



Elinor Wylie


Elinor Wylie's other poems:
  1. Upon Your Heart, Which Is.the Heart of All
  2. Poor Earth
  3. One Person
  4. Silver Filigree
  5. Death and the Maiden


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Samuel Lover The Crooked Stick ("Julia was lovely and winning")

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