Yes, I have built To-day, a wall against To-morrow, So let To-morrow knock--I shall not be afraid, For none shall give me death, and none shall give me sorrow, And none shall spoil this darling day that I have made. No storm shall stir my sea. No night but mine shall shade This day that I have made.
There is the track my feet have worn By which my fate may find me: From that dim place where I was born Those footprints run behind me. Uncertain was the trail I left, For--oh, the way was stormy; But now this splendid sea has cleft My journey from before me.
Three things the sea shall never end, Three things shall mock its power: My singing soul, my Secret Friend, And this, my perfect hour. And you shall seek me till you reach The tangled tide advancing, And you shall find upon the beach The traces of my dancing, And in the air the happy speech Of Secret Friends romancing.
I will repent me of my ways; I will come here and bury Five thousand odd superfluous days Beneath a flow'ring cherry.
Between a pear and a cherry tree My temple I will enter-- My place, where even I may be The altar and the centre.
One altar to a thousand aisles, A hundred thousand arches ... The loud lamb-choir about me files, The bleating bishop marches,
The congregation kneels and nods, The bishop leads its praises, So I'll pray too, to their dim gods Whose feet are decked with daisies:
_Ah, let me not grow old. Ah, let Me not grow old, and falter In my delusion, or forget My heart was once an altar. Let me still think myself a star With these my rays about me; Pretend these green perspectives are All purposeless without me._
_Ah, bid the sun stand still. Ah, bid The coming night retire, And all the good I ever did Shall feed your altar fire; The hour shall stand and sing your praise, The minute shall adore you, And my ten thousand unborn days I'll sacrifice before you._
_Gods of great joy, and little grief, See--I will wear as token A pear leaf and a cherry leaf Until this pledge be broken_....
Between a pear and a cherry tree A cold hand touched my shoulder-- _Ah, my false gods have forsaken me, I am a minute older_.
THANKS TO MY WORLD FOR THE LOAN OF A FAIR DAY
That day you wrought for me Shone, and was ended. Perfect your thought for me, Whom you befriended. Such joy was new to me-- New, and most splendid, More than was due to me. More than was due to me.