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.
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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.
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.]
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.]
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.
Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven
That from the East glad message brings.
Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven
That from the East glad message brings.
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.
Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth
knowledge.
Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth
knowledge.
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.
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.
