A GOLDEN DAY

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 of sin, or woe?"
    My heart replies, "I do not know."

Nay! all we know, or feel, my heart,
    To-day 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 to-day---
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."

Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.


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