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

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POETAE MINORES
Nightingales and larks are foundNot everywhere: they can't go round.
Room enough and more there is,Warblers, bluebirds, goldfinches.
Many a country would be dullShould 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 smallThe 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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