To A Singer

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Title:     To A Singer
Author: Leigh Gordon Giltner [More Titles by Giltner]

Beneath thy Midas touch life's sullen grays
Are thrilled to sudden gold; as some far gleam
From wings of Helios athwart thy dream
Irradiates for thee earth's darksome ways.
Wild woodland voices ripple thro' thy lays;
Sweet silvern murmurs from some deep-delled spring,
Brook, tree and flower and each insensate thing,
The throstle's call, the calm of sun-steeped days,
A glint of sunshine on the swallow's wing,
Fern-filagrees, the drowsy drone of bee
Made drunk with draughts of purple wild-grape wine;
All these Orphean music holds for thee,
And all thy days and dreams companioning
Walks Nature with her hand close-clasped in thine.

[The end]
Leigh Gordon Giltner's poem: To A Singer

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