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 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
TO AN ENGLISH FRIEND
WITH EMERSON'S “POEMS”
Edmund, in this book you'll findMusic from a prophet's mind.
Even when harsh the numbers be,
There's an inward melody;
And when sound is one with sense,
'T is a bird's song, sweet, intense.
Chide me not the book is small,
For in it lies our all in all.
We who in El Dorado live
Have no better gift to give.
When no more is silver mill,
Golden stream, or iron hill—
Search the New World from pole to pole,
Here you'll find its singing soul!
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |