Whether my days are cooled with calm or filled with fever's ardent taint, I have the same blue sky as God, I have the same God as the saint.

Whether my days are cooled with calm or filled with fever's ardent taint, I have the same blue sky as God, I have the same God as the saint.

Whatever Juice this sky will pour this gaping parched old throat will drain; What time the Harper harps I'll dance: 'tis He, not I, who shall complain. Meal may be scarce and cakes be burnt, yet I weep not nor even scold: The sun is food enough for me, 't is large, and has not yet grown cold.

Though man or angel judge my life and read it like an open scroll, And weigh my heart, I have judge more just than any—my own soul.

Girl, when he gives you kisses twain, use one, and let the other stay; And hoard it, for moons die, red fades, and you may need a kiss—some day.

A strong, brave man is born each month, each year God gives a sage to men, A poet each ten years, perhaps, but an unselfish person,—when?

I saw them kissing in the shade and knew the sum of all my lore: God gave them Youth, God gave them Love, and even God can give no more.