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 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
XIII—“ONCE WHEN WE WALKED WITHIN A SUMMER FIELD”
Once when we walked within a summer fieldI pluckt the flower of immortality,
And said, “Dear Love of mine, I give to thee
This flower of flowers of all the round year's yield!”
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Thy sun-dazed eyes, and, flinging the other free,
Spurned from thee that white blossom utterly.
But, Love, the immortal cannot so be killed.
The generations shall behold thee stand
Against that western glow in grass dew-wet—
Lord of my life, and lady of the land.
Nor maid nor lover shall the world forget,
Nor that disdainful wafture of thy hand.
Thou scornful! sun and flower shall find thee yet.
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |