The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | ||
335
III
They said there were no more singers,But listen!—a master voice!
A voice of the true joy-bringers!
Now will ye heed and rejoice,
Or pass on the other side,
And wait till the singer has died,
Then weep o'er his voiceless clay?
Friends, beware!
A keen, new sound is in the air;—
Know ye a poet's coming is the old world's judgment day!
The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | ||