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 | The poems of Trumbull Stickney |  |
[XII
As one who loving beyond words will bring]
As one who loving beyond words will bringThe hue and perfumes of a common rose
And trust a meadow's language to disclose
The true simplicity of offering;
Then, as he mutely gives his little, spring
Obscure slow tears that she who studies knows
Till in some deeper knowledge both repose
And the old flower is now a useless thing.
So ...
| The poems of Trumbull Stickney | |