THE GENTLE READER

BY ARTHUR DAVISON FICKE

WHY does the poet choose to sing?

No impulse ever stirred in me

The wish to make myself a thing

To which all mocking gibes might cling.”

Perhaps he sees more than you see.

“Why should this fool go crying out

The secrets of his soul? In steel

I case myself, nor care to shout

Those things one does not talk about.”

Perhaps he feels more than you feel.

“If I had wisdom to impart,

I’d say the thing, and let it go,

Not trifle with a foolish art

And make a motley of my heart.”

Perhaps he knows more than you know.