TO-DAY, 'I thought, 'I will not plan nor strive;
Idle as yon blue sky, or clouds that go
Like loitering ships, with sails as white as snow,
I simply will be glad to be alive.'

For, year by year, in steady summer glow
The flowers had bloomed, and life had stored its hive,
But tasted not the honey. Quite to thrive,
The flavor of my thrift I now would know.

But the good breeze blew in a friend—a boon
At any hour. There was a book to show,
A gift to take, a slender one to give.
The morning passed to mellow afternoon,
And that to twilight; it was sleep-time soon,—
And lo! again I had forgot to live.