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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.
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.
Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., read more
Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., Virtus sui gloria.]
Cease not to learn until thou cease to live;
Think that day lost wherein thou draw'st no letter,
read more
Cease not to learn until thou cease to live;
Think that day lost wherein thou draw'st no letter,
To make thyself learneder, wiser, better.
[Fr., Jusqu'au cercuil (mon fils) vueilles apprendre,
Et tien perdu le jour qui s'est passe,
Si tu n'y as quelque chose ammasse,
Pour plus scavant et plus sage te rendre.]
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.
For, he that expects nothing shall not be disappointed, but he that expects much - if he lives and uses read more
For, he that expects nothing shall not be disappointed, but he that expects much - if he lives and uses that in hand day by day - shall be full to running over.
Day!
Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure read more
Day!
Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim.
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.
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.