When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my read more

When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

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.

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.

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.

If you don't think every day is a good day, just try missing one.

If you don't think every day is a good day, just try missing one.

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the read more

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the greatest capacity of anything that
exists. They come and go like muffled and veiled figures sent
from a distant friendly party; but they say nothing, and if we do
not use the gifts they bring, they carry them as silently away.

The long days are no happier than the short ones.

The long days are no happier than the short ones.

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.

Day of wrath that day of burning,
Seer and Sibyl speak concerning,
All the world to ashes read more

Day of wrath that day of burning,
Seer and Sibyl speak concerning,
All the world to ashes turning.
[Lat., Dies irae, dies illa!
Solvet saeclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sybilla.]