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A Golden Day

  The subtle beauty of this day
Hangs o'er me like a fairy spell,
And care and grief have flown away,
And every breeze sings, "all is well.
" I ask, "Holds earth or sin, or woe?" My heart replies, "I do not know.
" Nay! all we know, or feel, my heart, Today is joy undimmed, complete; In tears or pain we have no part; The act of breathing is so sweet, We care no higher joy to name.
What reck we now of wealth or fame? The past--what matters it to me? The pain it gave has passed away.
The future--that I cannot see! I care for nothing save today-- This is a respite from all care, And trouble flies--I know not where.
Go on, oh noisy, restless life! Pass by, oh, feet that seek for heights! I have no part in aught of strife; I do not want your vain delights.
The day wraps round me like a spell And every breeze sings, "All is well.

Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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