Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/197

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POETAE MINORES
Nightingales and larks are found
Not everywhere: they can't go round.

Room enough and more there is,
Warblers, bluebirds, goldfinches.

Many a country would be dull
Should there be a cricket-lull.

Crickets, when the larks are flown,
Warm us with their undertone.

The NationAlbert Edmund Trombly


MATTER
When I was a live man,
A few years ago,
For all I might say,
For all I could do,

I got no attention;
My life was so small
The world didn't know
I was living at all.

Such stolid indifference
I couldn't allow;
I swore that I'd matter,
Never mind how.

But after a lifetime
Of failure and prayer,
I broke my heart trying
To make the world care.

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