Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/94

66 When I am gone,

Something of me I would might subtly pass

Within these flowers twain of all the year;

So might my spirit send a sudden stir

Into the hearts of those who love these hills,

These woods, these waves, and meadows by the sea.

"CALL ME NOT DEAD"

"EACH MOMENT HOLY IS"

"WHEN TO SLEEP I MUST"

to sleep I must

Where my fathers sleep;