Against the day of sorrow Lay by some trifling thing A smile, a kiss, a flower For sweet remembering. Then when the day is darkest Without one rift of blue Take out your little trifle And dream your dream anew. THE GIFT OF YEARS The mellow years have brought to me Many a precious thing, The infinite peace of forgetting, The joy of remembering. A key to earth-born melodies, A deaf ear to its din Eyes that see only the beautiful, And a heart that is young again. |