Reach your hand to me, my friend,
With its heartiest caress —
Sometime there will come an end
To its present faithfulness —
Sometime I may ask in vain
For the touch of it again,
When between us land or sea
Holds it ever back from me.
Sometime I may need it so,
Groping somewhere in the night,
It will seem to me as though
Just a touch, however light,
Would make all the darkness day,
And along some sunny way
Lead me through an April-shower
Of my tears to this fair hour.
O the present is too sweet
To go on forever thus!
Round the corner of the street
Who can say what waits for us?—
Meeting — greeting, night and day,
Faring each the self-same way —
Still somewhere the path must end.—
Reach your hand to me, my friend!