 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
“CAME TO A MASTER OF SONG”
Came to a master of song
And the human heart
One who had followed him long
And worshiped his art;
One whom the poet's singing
Had lured from death,
Joy to the crusht soul bringing
And heaven's breath;
And the human heart
One who had followed him long
And worshiped his art;
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Had lured from death,
Joy to the crusht soul bringing
And heaven's breath;
Came to him once in an hour
Of terror and stress,
And cried, “Thou alone hast power
To save me and bless;
Thou alone, pure heart and free,
Canst pluck from disaster,
If to a wretch like me
Thou wilt stoop, O master!”
Of terror and stress,
And cried, “Thou alone hast power
To save me and bless;
Thou alone, pure heart and free,
Canst pluck from disaster,
If to a wretch like me
Thou wilt stoop, O master!”
Answered the bard with shame,
And sorrow and trembling:
“Was I false, was my song to blame?
Was my art dissembling?
I of all mortals the saddest,
The quickest to fall,
And song of mine highest and gladdest
Repentance all!”
And sorrow and trembling:
“Was I false, was my song to blame?
Was my art dissembling?
I of all mortals the saddest,
The quickest to fall,
And song of mine highest and gladdest
Repentance all!”
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |