LET ME NOT BE TOO SURE
Let me not be of life's bequest too sure,
Nor hazard on a frail tomorrow's light,
But answering day's behest forget its lure,
Lest there shall rise no stars upon my night;
Let me not rest on joy's improvidence,
Nor build upon the fabric of a dream.
Nor time's irrevocable coin cast hence,
However near its fair fulfilment seem;
Thou, who alone hast ward of certainties,
Let me not spend of gift or grace too soon,
Nor squander any sweet that therein lies,
But for high service keep the utmost boon,
Lest I shall be too sure,—or seek to prove,
And break the alabaster box of love!
Nor hazard on a frail tomorrow's light,
But answering day's behest forget its lure,
Lest there shall rise no stars upon my night;
Let me not rest on joy's improvidence,
Nor build upon the fabric of a dream.
Nor time's irrevocable coin cast hence,
However near its fair fulfilment seem;
Thou, who alone hast ward of certainties,
Let me not spend of gift or grace too soon,
Nor squander any sweet that therein lies,
But for high service keep the utmost boon,
Lest I shall be too sure,—or seek to prove,
And break the alabaster box of love!