Object International
9. Trumbull Stickney
From The Soul of Time, 1904
Time’s a circumference
Whereof the segment of our station seems
A long straight line from nothing into naught.
Therefore we say “progress,” “infinity” —
Dull words whose object
Hangs in the air of error and delights
Our boyish minds a hunt for butterflies.
For aspiration studies not the sky
But looks for stars
From I Used to Think, 1905
-         I used to think 
-         The mind essential in the body, even 
-         As stood the body essential in the mind: 
-         Two inseparable things, by nature equal 
-         And similar, and in creation’s song 
-         Halving the total scale: it is not so. 
-         Unlike and cross like driftwood sticks they come 
-         Churned in the giddy trough: a chunk of pine, 
-         A slab of rosewood: mangled each on each 
-         With knocks and friction, or in deadly pain 
-         Sheathing each other’s splinters: till at last 
-         Without all stuff or shape they’re jetted up 
-         Where in the bluish moisture rot whate’er 
-         Was vomited in horror from the sea.