The Song Sparrow Chided

Song spearing the day, sparrow on a line!

Telephone hath less music, but monotony

Crowds your loud piercing song,

Tone down, be content with less,

Sing with less wearisome exuberance.

You too, lark of love, you too,

You hustling loud-wearying one,

Sing a soft song, simply bred,

Sing a song leaving more expected

And less said, seduce us more.

Seduce us better, sparrow of song,

Seduce us nicer, lark of love,

Let silence intercede and quiet

Our feverish ears, sick with hearing

The impenetrable thinness of love.

Love will last but not forever,

Your song soon ended, so is love's,

Leave a few buttercups for new visitors,

Leave a few trills and chords,

Later a new song must be churned and sung.

This insufferable insistence!

This droning of glee, high-pitched,

This itching and famous melody!

Take them into the darkness; and lark,

You too lie down in the darkness of your song.

HUNT

I will hunt him, as he hunts the buck,

He hunts the buck, Adonis hunted boar,

He hunts the buck, but I hunt him, ahay,

I hunt you, buck, I hunt you in the cold,