Poems by Richard Watson Gilder

Poems by Richard Watson Gilder

Art, by Richard Watson Gilder

Following the sun, westward the march of power!
The Rose of Might blooms in our new-world mart:...

Autumn, by Richard Watson Gilder

An Autumn Meditation For autumn days
To me not melancholy are, but full
Of joy and hope, mys...

The Celestial Passion, by Richard Watson Gilder

O WHITE and midnight sky, O starry bath,
Wash me in thy pure, heavenly, crystal flood;
Cle...

Christianity, by Richard Watson Gilder

Wherever are tears and sighs,
Wherever are children's eyes,
Where man calls man his brother, ...

Each Moment Holy Is, by Richard Watson Gilder

Each moment holy is, for out from God
Each moment flashes forth a human soul.
Holy each moment...

Golden Rod, by Richard Watson Gilder

An Autumn Meditation Grows a weed
More richly here beside our mellow seas
That is the Autumn's...

I Met a Traveller on the Road, by Richard Watson Gilder

I met a traveller on the road
Whose back was bent beneath a load;
His face was worn with morta...

Love Me Not, Love, For That I First Loved Thee, by Richard Watson Gilder

Love me not, Love, for that I first loved thee,
Nor love me, Love, for thy sweet pity's sak...

The Master-Poets, by Richard Watson Gilder

HE the great World-Musician at whose stroke
The stars of morning into music broke:
He from who...

Morning, by Richard Watson Gilder

I am the spirit of the morning sea;
I am the awakening and the glad surprise;
I fill the skie...

Originality, by Richard Watson Gilder

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our ...

The Poet's Protest, by Richard Watson Gilder

O MAN with your rule and measure,
Your tests and analyses!
You may take your empty pleasure,
...

Reform, by Richard Watson Gilder

I Oh, how shall I help to right the world that is going wrong!
And what can I do to hurry the ...

The Sower, by Richard Watson Gilder

I A SOWER went forth to sow,
His eyes were dark with woe;
He crushed the flowers beneath his...

Sunset from the Train, by Richard Watson Gilder

But then the sunset smiled,
Smiled once and turned toward dark,
Above the distant, wavering ...