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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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.]
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.
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 better day, the worse deed.
The better day, the worse deed.
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.
Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!
Look to this Day! For it is Life,
The very read more
Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!
Look to this Day! For it is Life,
The very Life of Life.
In its brief course lie all the Varieties
And Realities of your Existence;
The Bliss of Growth,
The Glory of Action,
The Splendor of Beauty;
For Yesterday is but a Dream,
And Tomorrow is only a Vision;
But Today well lived
Makes every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness,
And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope.
Look well therefore to this Day!
Such is the Salutation of Dawn.
Is not every meanest day the confluence of two eternities?
Is not every meanest day the confluence of two eternities?
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.
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.
