I know it in the morning At the opening of the eyes, By the holy silent mystery That all about me lies; By the smoothness of the spirit, And the clarity of mind, And the blessed, calm forgetfulness Of matters left behind; And by those inner voices That whisperingly speak: "This day shall be a Sunday, In the middle of the week!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 2 by CONRAD AIKEN GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SMOTHERED FIRES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MOTHER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FROM THE AGES WITH A SMILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SUNSET FROM OMAHA HOTEL WINDOW by CARL SANDBURG |