The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | ||
“THE PINES”
These are the sounds that I heard at the home in “The Pines”:The frightened cry of the yellowthroat hid in the trees;
The chipmunk's rustling tread on the autumn leaves
That fringe with brown the green of the wave and the wood;
The purr of the quick canoe where it curves the wave
And the liquid push of the oar; the voice of the wind
Now far, now near, as it sighs through the swaying boughs—
Through the boughs that sway with a slow and wave-like motion
Like growths of the sea that swing in the moving waters;
The voice of the wind I heard, now near, now far;
Voice of the grieving world that murmurs and calls
And wakes in the spirit of man an answering cry.
The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | ||