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About this poet

Trumbull Stickney was born in Geneva, Switzerland, on June 20, 1874. He received a BA from Harvard University in 1895, where he served as editor of the Harvard Monthly, and a doctoral degree from the Sorbonne. He published his debut poetry collection, Dramatic Verses, in 1902. The next year, he took on a position teaching Greek at Harvard University. Stickney died of a brain tumor on October 11, 1904. The Poems of Trumbull Stickney (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.), edited by George Cabot Lodge, William Vaughn Moody, and John Ellerton Lodge, was published posthumously in 1905. 

Live Blindly and Upon the Hour

Live blindly and upon the hour. The Lord, 
Who was the Future, died full long ago. 
Knowledge which is the Past is folly. Go, 
Poor, child, and be not to thyself abhorred. 
Around thine earth sun-winged winds do blow 
And planets roll; a meteor draws his sword; 
The rainbow breaks his seven-coloured chord 
And the long strips of river-silver flow: 
Awake! Give thyself to the lovely hours. 
Drinking their lips, catch thou the dream in flight 
About their fragile hairs' aerial gold. 
Thou art divine, thou livest,—as of old 
Apollo springing naked to the light, 
And all his island shivered into flowers.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Trumbull Stickney

Trumbull Stickney published his debut poetry collection, Dramatic Verses, in 1902. 

by this poet

These autumn gardens, russet, gray and brown, 
The sward with shrivelled foliage strown, 
The shrubs and trees 
By weary wings of sunshine overflown 
And timid silences,—

Since first you, darling, called my spirit yours, 
Seem happy, and the gladness pours 
From day to day, 
And yester-year across this year
These are my murmur-laden shells that keep 
A fresh voice tho' the years be very gray. 
The wave that washed their lips and tuned their lay 
Is gone, gone with the faded ocean sweep, 
The royal tide, gray ebb and sunken neap 
And purple midday,—gone! To this hot clay 
Must sing my shells, where yet the primal
They lived enamoured of the lovely moon, 
The dawn and twilight on their gentle lake. 
Then Passion marvellously born did shake 
Their breast and drave them into the mid-noon. 
Their lives did shrink to one desire, and soon 
They rose fire-eyed to follow in the wake 
Of one eternal thought,—when sudden brake