Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/491

Rh Even when joy is near, 265. Ever when slept the poet his dreams were music, 399.

Face once the thought: This piled up sky of cloud, 174. Fades the rose; the year grows old, 232. Fame is an honest thing, 209. Fixt in one desire, 267. Fly, thistle-down, fly, 21. Following the sun, westward the march of power! 125. Four-walled is my tower, 280. Friend, why goest thou forth, 106. Friends, beware! 334. From every motion, every lovely line, 420. From love to love she passes on this day, 420. From the happy first time, 346. From the shade of the elms that murmured above thy birth, 205.

Gay!—as the hot crater's crust all lightning-lit, 453. Gentle and generous, brave-hearted, kind, 310. "Give me a theme," the little poet cried, 126. Give thy day to Duty, 350. Glorious that ancient art! 212. Glory and honor and fame and everlasting laudation, 160. God of the strong, God of the weak, 356. Grace, majesty, and the calm bliss of life, 145. Great God, to whom since time began, 57. Great nature is an army gay, 170. Great Universe—what dost thou with thy dead! 68. Greece was; Greece is no more, 201.

He fails who climbs to power and place, 163. He is gone! We shall not see again, 139. He knows not the path of duty, 37. He of the ocean is, its thunderous waves, 210. He pondered well, looked in his heart, 337. He sang the rose, he praised its fragrant breath, 335. He speaks not well who doth his time deplore, 270. He the great World-Musician at whose stroke, 49. He who hath the sacred fire, 367. Henceforth before these feet, 227. Her delicate form, her night of hair, 345. Her voice was like the song of birds, 218. Here, by the great waters, 315. Here for the world to see men brought their fairest, 204. Here rests the heart whose throbbing shook the earth! 298. Here stays the house, here stay the selfsame places, 100. Here was as loyal soul as ever drew, 452. His life was generous as his life was long, 347. His was the love of art and song, 300. Home of my forebears, home of my dreaming childhood, 409. How curves the little river, through Glen Gilder, O Glen Gilder, 417.