Leave him now quiet by the way
To rest apart.
I know what draws him to the dust alway
And churns him in the builder’s lime:
He has the fright of time.
I heard it knocking in his breast
A minute since;
His human eyes did wince,
He stubborned like the massive slaughter beast
And as a thing o’erwhelmed with sound
Stood bolted to the ground.
Leave him, for rest alone can cure-
If cure there be-
This waif upon the sea.
He is of those who slanted the great door
And listened-wretched little lad-
To what they said.
(Trumbull Stickney)
More Poetry from Trumbull Stickney:
Trumbull Stickney Poems based on Topics: Time- In a City Garden (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
- In Ampezzo (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
- Mnemosyne (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
- Once (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
- And, the Last Day Being Come (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
- Loneliness (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Time PoemsBased on Keywords: churns, erwhelmed, stubborned