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.

There's none so blind as they that won't see.

There's none so blind as they that won't see.

Oh, say! what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings read more

Oh, say! what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings of the sight?
Oh, tell your poor blind boy!

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.

A blind man can see his mouth

A blind man can see his mouth

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.

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.

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.

I pitied him in his blindness But can I boast, "I see?" Perhaps there walks a spirit Close by, who read more

I pitied him in his blindness But can I boast, "I see?" Perhaps there walks a spirit Close by, who pities me