 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
THE SOUL
Three messengers to me from heaven cameAnd said: “There is a deathless human soul;
It is not lost, as is the fiery flame
That dies into the undistinguished whole.
Ah, no; it separate is, distinct as God—
Nor any more than He can it be killed;
Then fearless give thy body to the clod,
For naught can quench the light that once it filled!”
62
The second voice came crying in the night
With strange and awful music from above;
None who have heard that voice forget it quite;
Birth is it named; the third, O, turn not pale!
'T was Death to the undying soul cried, Hail!
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |