'Life's day is too brief,' he said at dawn,
'I would it were ten times longer,
For great tasks wait for me further on.'
At noonday the wish was stronger.

His place was in the thick of the strife,
And hopes were nearing completeness,
While one was crowning the joys of life
With love's own wonderful sweetness.

'Life's day is too brief for all it contains,
The triumphs, the fighting, the proving,
The hopes and desires, the joys and the pains-
Too brief for the hating and loving.'

* * * * *

To-night he sits in the shadows gray,
While heavily sorrow presses.
O the long, long day! O the weary day,
With its failures and successes!

He sits in the shadows and turns his eyes
On the years that lie behind him.
'I am tired of all things now,' he cries,
And the hot tears rise and blind him.

'Rest and stillness is all that I crave,
Such robbing of strength has grief done.
Make room, dear love, in your lowly grave-
Life's day, thank God, is a brief one!'