Poem by Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 4. 2. The Mirror

That I should love thee seemeth meet and wise,
⁠     So beautiful thou art that he were mad
     ⁠Who in thy countenance no pleasure had;
⁠     Who felt not the still music of thine eyes
Fall on his forehead, as the evening skies
     ⁠The music of the stars feel and are glad.
⁠     But o'er my mind one doubt still cast a shade
⁠     Till in my thought this answer did arise:
That thou shouldst love me is not wise or meet,
     ⁠For like thee, Love, I am not beautiful;
⁠     And yet I think that haply in my face
Thou findest a true beauty;—this poor, dull,
⁠     Disfigured mirror dimly may repeat
⁠     A little part of thy most heavenly grace.

1. The New Day. Part 3. 7. Body and Soul
2. The New Day. Part 4. 3. Likeness in Unlikeness
3. The New Day. Part 4. 7. Song (Years have flown since I knew thee first)
4. The New Day. Part 4. 10. The Violin
5. The New Day. Part 3. 9. Love's Jealousy

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