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Day after Day.
Day after flay comes the longing
To do, and to dare, and to be:
With patient effort still striving
To catch from life's fretful sea,
A bit of rare driftwood or blossom,
Where the scent of the perfume still clings,
And just a glimpse of the moonlight,
Which the halo of waters there flings.

A sight of a sail bearing onward
A cargo, with one hope fulfilled;
Its bow glistening white in the sunlight,
With the promise of joys never stilled.
A song drifting down from vast Somewhere,
So freighted with love and rare peace,
That the heart of each one looking upward,
Echoes back a sublime surcease.

It is not the longing that weakens,
And makes the heart weary and faint;
It is not the hopes and the striving
That leaves (God forbid) a dark taint,
It is never the recompense coming,
Waited and toiled for so long;
There's always a shadow that darkens,
And a moan through the sweetness of song.

—21—