To feed my soul with beauty till I die; To give my hands a pleasant task to do; To keep my heart forever filled anew With dreams and wonders which the days supply; To love all conscious living, and thereby Respect the brute who renders up its due, And know the world as planned is good and true— And thus —because there chanced to be an I! This is my life since things are as they are: One half akin to flowers and the grass: The rest a law unto the changeless star. And I believe when I shall come to pass Within the Door His hand shall hold ajar I'll leave no echoing whisper of Alas!
William Stanley Braithwaite - 1878-1962
I am glad daylong for the gift of song, For time and change and sorrow; For the sunset wings and the world-end things Which hang on the edge of to-morrow. I am glad for my heart whose gates apart Are the entrance-place of wonders, Where dreams come in from the rush and din Like sheep from the rains and thunders.