Chide me not, darling, that I sing <br />Familiar thoughts and metres old: <br />Nay, do not scold <br />My spirit's childish uttering. <br /> <br />I know not why 't is that or this <br />I murmur to you thus or so: <br />Only I know <br />It throbs across my silences, <br /> <br />It blows over my heart,—a long <br />Infinite wind, again, again! <br />Again! and then <br />My life kneels down into a song.<br /><br />Trumbull Stickney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/service/
