Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/356

328 Somewhere is joy, tho' 't is not thine;

The power that sent can heal thy grief;

And light lies on the farther hills.

Thou wouldst not with the world be one

If ne'er thou knewest hurt and wrong;

Take comfort, tho' the darkened sun

Never again bring gleam or song,

The light lies on the farther hills.

"AH, NEAR, DEAR FRIEND"

MUSIC IN DARKNESS

I

the dim end of day

I heard the great musician play:

Saw her white hands now slow, now swiftly pass;

Where gleamed the polished wood, as in a glass,