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 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
THE STAR IN THE CITY
As down the city streetI pass at the twilight hour,
'Mid the noise of wheels and hoofs
That grind on the stones, and beat;—
Upward, by spire and tower,
Over the chimneys and roofs
Climbs my glance to the skies,
146
A mist with a core of light.
Slowly, as grows the night,—
As the sky turns blue from gray,—
Slowly it beams more bright,
And keeps with me on my way.
Soul of the twilight star
That leads me from afar,
Spirit that keener glows
As the daylight darker grows;
That leaps the chasm of blue
Where the cross-street thunders through,
And follows o'er roof and spire,
In the night-time soaring higher;
I know thee, and only I,
Thou comrade of the sky—
Star of the poet's heart,
The light and soul of his art.
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |