Poem by Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 4. 12. “My Songs Are All of Thee, What Tho' I Sing”

My songs are all of thee, what tho' I sing
⁠     Of morning when the stars are yet in sight,
     ⁠Of evening, or the melancholy night,
⁠     Of birds that o'er the reddening waters wing;
Of song, of fire, of winds, or mists that cling
     ⁠To mountain-tops, of winter all in white,
     ⁠Of rivers that toward ocean take their flight,
⁠     Of summer when the rose is blossoming.
I think no thought that is not thine, no breath
⁠     Of life I breathe beyond thy sanctity;
⁠     Thou art the voice that silence uttereth,
And of all sound thou art the sense. From thee
⁠     The music of my song, and what it saith
     ⁠Is but the beat of thy heart, throbbed through me. 

1. The New Day. Part 4. 17. “He Knows Not the Path of Duty”
2. The New Day. Part 3. 19. Thistle-Down
3. The Celestial Passion. Part 2. 4. Cost
4. The New Day. Part 3. 12. Denial
5. The New Day. Part 3. 31. “When the Last Doubt Is Doubted”

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