Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/307

Rh Sight brings she to the seeing,

New song to those that hear;

Her braver spirit sounding

Where mortals fail and fear.

She at the heart of being

Serene and glad doth dwell;

Spirit with scarce a veil of flesh;

A soul made visible.

Or is it only a lovely girl

With flowers at her maiden breast?

—Helen, here is a book of song

From the poet who loves you best.

FOR THE ESPOUSALS OF JEANNE ROUMANILLE, OF AVIGNON

joy-bells are ringing

And the high Fates meet thee,

Child of the South, and of singing,

Singing I greet thee.

In thy chaplet one flower

From a far world! Wilt wear it?

Rich tho' thy land, and this hour,

Thou may'st not forbear it;

Thou wilt welcome and win it;

It will breathe on, caress thee;

For the fame of thy father is in it;

His lover doth bless thee!

His lover—the lover of thee, O Provence;

Thy blue skies, thy gray mountains;

The heart-beat of Freedom and France

Shakes thy rivers and fountains,