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Poem by Richard Watson Gilder The New Day. Part 3. 9. Love's Jealousy Of other men I know no jealousy, Nor of the maid who holds thee close, O, close! But of the June-red, summer-scented rose, And of the barred and golden sunset sky That wins the soul of thee through thy deep eye; And of the breeze by thee beloved, that goes O'er thy dear hair and brow; the song that flows Into thy heart of hearts, where it may die. I would I were one moment that sweet show Of flower; or breeze beloved that toucheth all; Or sky that through the summer eve doth burn. I would I were the song thou lovest so, At sound of me to have thine eyelids fall; But I would then to something human turn. Richard Watson Gilder Richard Watson Gilder's other poems:
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