 | The poems of Trumbull Stickney |  |
40
SONG
A bud has burst on the upper bough
(The linnet sang in my heart to-day);
I know where the pale green grasses show
By a tiny runnel, off the way,
And the earth is wet.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “Not yet.”)
(The linnet sang in my heart to-day);
I know where the pale green grasses show
By a tiny runnel, off the way,
And the earth is wet.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “Not yet.”)
I nabbed the fly in a briar rose
(The linnet to-day in my heart did sing);
Last night, my head tucked under my wing,
I dreamed of a green moon-moth that glows
Thro' ferns of June.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “So soon?”)
(The linnet to-day in my heart did sing);
Last night, my head tucked under my wing,
I dreamed of a green moon-moth that glows
Thro' ferns of June.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “So soon?”)
Good-bye, for the pretty leaves are down
(The linnet sang in my heart to-day);
The last gold bit of upland 's mown,
And most of summer has blown away
Thro' the garden gate.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “Too late.”)
(The linnet sang in my heart to-day);
The last gold bit of upland 's mown,
And most of summer has blown away
Thro' the garden gate.
(A cuckoo said in my brain: “Too late.”)
| The poems of Trumbull Stickney | |