Who is Trumbull Stickney

Joseph Trumbull Stickney (June 20, 1874 – October 11, 1904) was an American classical scholar and poet.

Biography

He was born in Geneva and spent much of his early life in Europe. He attended Harvard University from 1891, when he became editor of the Harvard Monthly and a member of Signet Society, to 1895, when he graduated magna cum laude. He then studied for seven years in Paris, taking a doctorate at the Sorbonne. He wrote there two dissertations, a Latin one on the Venetian humanist Ermolao Barbaro, and the other on Les Sentences dans la Poésie Grecque d'Homère à Euripide. The latter is openly indebted to The Birth of Tragedy and to Stickney's study of the Bhagavad Gita under the tutelage of Sylvain Lévi. Stickney's was the first American docteur ès lett...
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Trumbull Stickney Poems

  • Loneliness
    These autumn gardens, russet, gray and brown,
    The sward with shrivelled foliage strown,
    The shrubs and trees
    By weary wings of sunshine overflown ...
  • I Hear A River Thro' The Valley Wander
    I hear a river thro' the valley wander
    Whose water runs, the song alone remaining.
    A rainbow stands and summer passes under.
    ...
  • Service
    Chide me not, darling, that I sing
    Familiar thoughts and metres old:
    Nay, do not scold
    My spirit's childish uttering. ...
  • On Some Shells Found Inland
    These are my murmur-laden shells that keep
    A fresh voice tho' the years be very gray.
    The wave that washed their lips and tuned their lay
    Is gone, gone with the faded ocean sweep, ...
  • You Say, Columbus With His Argosies
    You say, Columbus with his argosies
    Who rash and greedy took the screaming main
    And vanished out before the hurricane
    Into the sunset after merchandise, ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Trumbull Stickney

Light 9 Sun 8 Sea 8 Green 7 Alone 7 Summer 7 Life 7 World 6 Long 6 Earth 6


Trumbull Stickney Quotes

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Comments about Trumbull Stickney

Artyom_yekat: "it’s cold abroad the country i remember. the swallows veering skimmed the golden grain at midday with a wing aslant and limber; and yellow cattle browsed upon the plain." (trumbull stickney)
_c_n_f: "i lean over your meaning's edge and i feel the dizziness of the things you have not said." -trumbull stickney
Welfordwrites: on some shells found inland, a poem by trumbull stickney. a sonnet about things found out of place.
Welfordwrites: on some shells found inland, a poem by trumbull stickney. a sonnet about things found out of place.
Poemtoday: sir, say no more sir, say no more, within me ’tis as if the green and climbing eyesight of a cat crawled near my mind’s poor birds. trumbull stickney
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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