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.
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The long days are no happier than the short ones.
The long days are no happier than the short ones.
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.
Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.
Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew read more
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.
After the day there cometh the derke night;
For though the day be never so longe,
At read more
After the day there cometh the derke night;
For though the day be never so longe,
At last the belles ringeth to evensonge.
You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day read more
You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.
Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak.
Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak.
From fibers of pain and hope and trouble
And toil and happiness,--one by one,--
Twisted together, or read more
From fibers of pain and hope and trouble
And toil and happiness,--one by one,--
Twisted together, or single or double,
The varying thread of our life is spun.
Hope shall cheer though the chain be galling;
Light shall come though the gloom be falling;
Faith will list for the Master calling
Our hearts to his rest,--when the day is done.
I will prepare and some day my chance will come.
I will prepare and some day my chance will come.
