Boast not thyself of to morrow; for thou knowest not what a day
may bring forth.

Boast not thyself of to morrow; for thou knowest not what a day
may bring forth.

The long days are no happier than the short ones.

The long days are no happier than the short ones.

So here hath been dawning
Another blue day;
Think, wilt thou let it
Slip read more

So here hath been dawning
Another blue day;
Think, wilt thou let it
Slip useless away?
Out of eternity
This new day is born,
Into eternity
At night will return.

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou
shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear:
read more

For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou
shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear:
Because thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters
that pass away:
And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine
forth, thou shalt be as the morning.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.

I will prepare and some day my chance will come.

I will prepare and some day my chance will come.

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want read more

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an read more

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands;
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all;
I, in my pleached garden watched the pomp
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I too late
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.