The subtle beauty of this day
    Hangs o'er me like a fairy spell,
And care and grief have flown away,
    And every breeze sings, "All is well."
I ask, "Holds earth or sin, or woe?"
    My heart replies, "I do not know."

Nay! all we know, or feel, my heart,
    Today is joy undimmed, complete;
In tears or pain we have no part;
    The act of breathing is so sweet,
We care no higher joy to name.
    What reck we now of wealth or fame?

The past--what matters it to me?
    The pain it gave has passed away.
The future--that I cannot see!
    I care for nothing save today--
This is a respite from all care,
    And trouble flies--I know not where.

Go on, oh, noisy, restless life!
    Pass by, oh, feet that seek for heights!
I have no part in aught of strife;
    I do not want your vain delights.
The day wraps round me like a spell
    And every breeze sings, "All is well."

Poems of reflection. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
Chicago, M.A. Donohue & company [c1905].

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