Albert Edmund Trombly - The Trees (1922)
Forgotten Poems #34: The Book of Lost Rhymes
—: The Trees :—
I Through the afternoon the breeze Looses leafy tongues of trees. Nodding heads accentuate What the leaves articulate. Twilight comes; the windless air Stills the gossip stirring there. In the night perhaps they sleep; But the roots of trees lie deep. II Poets sing their shade and fruits Never guessing at their roots. Still, they too have timid souls Underneath their rugged boles, Masters of an occult land We could better understand. Poets would be more profound If their roots took underground.
Albert Edmund Trombly (1888-1976)
P: The Madrigal (1917), Contemporary Verse (1917+), The Midland (1918+), Poet Lore (1918), The Texas Review (1919), The Stratford Journal (1919), Poetry (1920+), Tempo (1921), The Lyric West (1922-23), The Step Ladder (1922), Voices (1922), Southwest Review (1925); A: The Rhymers: A Book of Pennsylvania Verse [ed.] (1917); A: The Poet's Pack (1921), A Wreath for Edwin Markham (1922), Anthology of Magazine Verse (1922+), Voices of the Southwest: A Book of Texan Verse (1923); C: The Springtime of Love & Other Poems (1914), Love's Creed & Other Poems (1915), Songs of Daddyhood & Other Poems (1916); plays, articles, etc.
“Born in Chazy, New York. Five years later his family removed to Worcester, Massachusetts, and there was educated. He was graduated from the Worcester State Normal School in 1910. In 1913 he took his A.B. at Harvard , and since then has been instructor of Romance languages in the University of Pennsylvania. At the latter university he received an M.A. degree in 1915.” (The Newark Anniversary Poems, 1917) “On the faculty of the University of Texas, and has written a monograph on Rossetti.” (The Poet's Pack, 1921) In the 1920s, “a professor of Romance languages at the University of Missouri.” (Southwest Review, 1925)
A Fragment: (by Dick Whyte) Poems are trees if you please Words are sticks broken in bits Put back together letter by letter Printed on leaves of papery bees Poems are trees if you please xoxo dw
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Your trees, your tree!
They pleaseth me,
As do they thee.
In simple fee,
They giveth free
Our trees, our tree.