Richard Watson Gilder (Ричард Уотсон Гилдер)
The New Day. Part 4. 11. “O Mighty River, Triumphing to the Sea”
O mighty river, triumphing to the sea, Strong, calm, and solemn as thy mountains be! Poets have sung thy ever-living power, Thy wintry day, and summer sunset hour; Have told how rich thou art, how broad, how deep; What commerce thine, how many myriads reap The harvest of thy waters. They have sung Thy moony nights, when every shadow flung From cliff or pine is peopled with dim ghosts Of settlers, old-world fairies, or the hosts Of savage warriors that once plowed thy waves— Now hurrying to the dance from hidden graves; The waving outline of thy wooded mountains, Thy populous towns that stretch from forest fountains On either side, far to the salty main, Like golden coins alternate on a chain. Thou pathway of the empire of the North, Thy praises through the earth have traveled forth! I hear thee praised as one who hears the shout That follows when a hero from the rout Of battle issues: "Lo, how brave is he, How noble, proud, and beautiful!" But she Who knows him best: "How tender!" So thou art The river of love to me! —Heart of my heart, Dear love and bride is it not so indeed?— Among your treasures keep this new-pluckt reed.
Richard Watson Gilder’s other poems:
