BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
I AM serenity. Though passions beat
Like mighty billows on my helpless heart,
I know beyond them lies the perfect sweet
Repose, which only patience can impart.
And when wild tempests through my being rage,
"Peace, Peace," I cry; "it is my heritage."
I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain,
And rude disorders mutilate my strength,
A perfect restoration after pain,
I know shall be my recompense at length.
And so through grievous day and sleepless night,
"Health, Health," I cry; "it is my own by right."
I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad,
I wander for a while, I smile and say--
"It is but for a time; I shall be glad
To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way."
God is my father; He has wealth untold;
His wealth is mine--health, happiness, and gold,
Cosmopolitan 29 (Aug. 1900): 437.
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