# The Cricket (Tuckerman)

I
$^1$ The humming bee purrs softly o'er his flower, $^2$ From lawn and thicket $^3$ The dogday locust singeth in the sun, $^4$ From hour to hour; $^5$ Each has his bard, and thou, ere day be done $^6$ Shalt have no wrong; $^7$ So bright that murmur mid the insect crowd $^8$ Muffled and lost in bottom grass, or loud $^9$ By pale and picket: $^{10}$ Shall I not take to help me in my song $^{11}$ A little cooing cricket?
II
$^{12}$The afternoon is sleepy!, let us lie $^{13}$Beneath these branches, whilst the burdened brook $^{14}$Muttering and moaning to himself goes by, $^{15}$And mark our minstrel's carol, whilst we look $^{16}$Toward the faint horizon, swooning-blue. $^{17}$ Or in a garden bower $^{18}$Trellised and trammeled with deep drapery $^{19}$ Of hanging green; $^{20}$ Light glimmering through:--- $^{21}$ There let the dull hop be $^{22}$Let bloom, with poppy's dark refreshing flower; $^{23}$Let the dead fragrance round our temples beat, $^{24}$Stunning the sense to slumber; whilst between $^{25}$The falling water and fluttering wind $^{26}$ Mingle and meet $^{27}$ Murmur and mix, $^{28}$No few faint pipings from the glades behind, $^{29}$ Or alder-thicks; $^{30}$But louder as the day declines, $^{31}$From tingling tassel blade and sheath, $^{32}$Rising from nets of river-vines $^{33}$ Winrows and ricks, $^{34}$ Above, beneath, $^{35}$ At every breath:--- $^{36}$At hand, around, illimitably $^{37}$Rising and falling like the sea, $^{38}$ Acres of cricks!
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$^{39}$Dear to the child who hears thy rustling voice $^{40}$Cease at his footstep, though he hears thee still, $^{41}$Cease and resume, with vibrance crisp and shrill, $^{42}$Thou sittest in the sunshine to rejoice!; $^{43}$Night lover too; bringer of all things dark, $^{44}$And rest and silence; yet thou bringest to me $^{45}$Always that burthen of the unresting sea $^{46}$The moaning cliffs, the low rocks blackly stark; $^{47}$These upland inland fields no more I view, $^{48}$But the long flat seaside beach, the wild seamew, $^{49}$ And the overturning wave! $^{50}$Thou bringest too, dim accents from the grave $^{51}$To him who walketh when the day is dim, $^{52}$Dreaming of those who dream no more of him--- $^{53}$With edg'd remembrances of joy and pain: $^{54}$And heyday looks and laughter come again; $^{55}$Forms that in happy sunshine lie and leap, $^{56}$With faces where but now a gap must be $^{57}$Renunciations, and partitions deep, $^{58}$And perfect tears, and crowning vacancy! $^{59}$And to thy poet at the twilights hush $^{60}$No chirping touch of lips with tittering blush, $^{61}$But wringing arms, hearts wild with love and wo $^{62}$Closed eyes, and kisses that would not let go.
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$^{63}$So wert thou loved in that old graceful time $^{64}$ When Greece was fair, $^{65}$While god and hero hearkened to thy chime $^{66}$ Softly astir $^{67}$Where the long grasses fringed Caÿster's lip--- $^{68}$Long-drawn, with shimmering sails of swan and ship $^{69}$ And ship and swan--- $^{70}$ Or where $^{71}$ Reedy Eurotas ran. $^{72}$Did that low warble teach they tender flute, $^{73}$ Xenaphyle? $^{74}$Its breathings mild? say! did the grasshopper $^{75}$Sit golden in thy purple hair $^{76}$ O Psammathe? $^{77}$ Or wert thou mute $^{78}$Grieving for Pan amid the alders there? $^{79}$And by the water and along the hill $^{80}$That thirsty tinkle in the herbage still, $^{81}$Though the lost forest wailed to horns of Arcady? $^{82}$ Like the Enchanter old---
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$^{83}$Who sought mid the dead water's weeds and scum $^{84}$For evil growths beneath the moonbeam cold, $^{85}$ Or mandrake, or dorcynium; $^{86}$And touched the leaf that opened both his ears $^{87}$So that articulate voices now he hears $^{88}$In cry of beast or bird or insect's hum--- $^{89}$Might I but find thy knowledge in thy song! $^{90}$ That twittering tongue $^{91}$Ancient as light, returning like the years. $^{92}$ So might I be $^{93}$Unwise to sing, thy true interpreter $^{94}$Thro denser stillness and in sounder dark $^{95}$Than ere thy notes have pierced to harrow me, $^{96}$ So might I stir $^{97}$ The world to hark $^{98}$ To thee my lord and lawgiver $^{99}$ And cease my quest, $^{100}$Content to bring thy wisdom to the world $^{101}$Content to gain at last some low applause $^{102}$ Now low, now lost $^{103}$Like thine from mossy stone amid the stems and straws $^{104}$ Or garden-grave mound tricked and drest--- $^{105}$ Powdered and pearled $^{106}$ By stealing frost--- $^{107}$In dusky rainbow-beauty of euphorbias! $^{108}$For larger would be less indeed, and like $^{109}$The ceaseless simmer in the summer grass $^{110}$To him who toileth in the windy field, $^{111}$ Or where the sunbeams strike $^{112}$Naught in innumerable numerousness. $^{113}$ So might I much possess $^{114}$ So much must yield. $^{115}$But failing this, the dell and grassy dike $^{116}$The water and the waste shall still be dear $^{117}$ And all the pleasant plots and places $^{118}$Where thou hast sung and I have hung $^{119}$ To ignorantly hear.--- $^{120}$Then cricket sing thy song, or answer mine $^{121}$Thine whispers blame, but mine has naught but praises $^{122}$It matters not.---Behold the autumn goes, $^{123}$ The Shadow grows, $^{124}$The moments take hold of eternity; $^{125}$Even while we stop to wrangle or repine $^{126}$ Our lives are gone $^{127}$ Like thinnest mist, $^{128}$Like yon escaping colour in the tree:--- $^{129}$Rejoice! rejoice! whilst yet the hours exist $^{130}$Rejoice or mourn, and let the world swing on $^{131}$Unmoved by Cricket-song of thee or me.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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