OUR ONLY DAY.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 1, 7 January 1893, Page 6

OUR ONLY DAY.

Were this our only day, Did not our yesterdays and morrows give To hope and memory their interplay. How should we bear to live ?

Not merely what we are, But what we were and what we are to be. Make up our life —the far days each a star, The near days nebulae.

At once would love forget Its keen pursuits and coy delays of bliss, And its delicious pangs of fond regret, Were there no day but this.

And who, to win a friend, Would to the secrets of his heart invite A fellowship that should begin and end Between a bight and night?

Who, too, would pause to prate Of insult, or remember slight or scorn, Who would this night lie down to sleep with hate, Were there to be no morn?

Who would take heed to wrong,

To misery’s complaint or pity’s call, The long wail of the weak against the strong, If this one day were all ?

And what were wealth with shame. The vanity of office, pride of caste, The winey sparkle of the bubble fame. It this day were the last ?

Ay, what were all day worth Were there no looking backward or before— If every human life.that drops to earth Were lost for evermore ?

But each day is a link Of days that pass and never pass away ; For memory and hope—to live, to think— Each is our only day.