Edgar Albert Guest

20 August 1881 - 5 August 1959 / Birmingham / England

Out Of The Day

OUT of the day you have taken what,
Crown of laurels and wreath of bay?
Smiles or frowns? Did you bring away
Shame that stings like an iron hot,
Or did you close with a record fair?
Out of the day you have taken what,
Peace of mind or a night of care?

Sum it all up as you close the page,
What have you written throughout the day,
Joy or sorrow? Be honest, say
Evil wrought in an hour of rage,
Wrongs that loom through the dead of night?
Sum it all up as you close the page,
Fair or foul are the things you write?

Over your record muse with care,
And note the wrong that is written down;
Why this temper and why this frown?
You were the one to put them there,
You were the one to stoop to sin;
Over your record muse with care,
Yours is the fault if you failed to win.

Out of the day you have taken what,
Joy or sorrow? Then let me ask
What brought you to your daily task?
A cheerful mind with your woes forgot,
Or an air of gloom with a downcast chin?
Out of the day you have taken what?
Merely the fruits of what you put in.
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