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 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
440
A ROSE OF DREAM
I dreamed a rose; it bloomed
Beyond compare;
Of all wild blossoms by the wayside
Most rich, most sweet, most rare.
Beyond compare;
Of all wild blossoms by the wayside
Most rich, most sweet, most rare.
So lovely was the rose
I could but love it,
As, drinking deep its fragrant soul,
I bent above it.
I could but love it,
As, drinking deep its fragrant soul,
I bent above it.
O tenderly its leaves
Outbreathed their beauty;
Humbly to worship at that shrine
Was my dear duty.
Outbreathed their beauty;
Humbly to worship at that shrine
Was my dear duty.
Once, when in the twilight hour,
Its spirit drew me—
O wonderful! I was aware
That wild rose knew me.
Its spirit drew me—
O wonderful! I was aware
That wild rose knew me.
Knew me, my inmost heart—
And, O above
All joy imagined! lo! my rose
Gave love for love.
And, O above
All joy imagined! lo! my rose
Gave love for love.
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |