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.

Back to Poem Index