Poem November 1, 1900 Issue

To-Day

BY MARY I. KEITH.

Dear heart, yours is to-day,
Fill it with work;
Dream not the hours away,
Nor duty shirk.

Sad heart, why do you mourn
For yesterday?
Others their griefs have borne
Just for a day.

Glad heart, rejoice with me,
"Now," is the time;
To-day is but Eternity,
Oh! bliss sublime.

Love waits for thee, my heart,
Open thy door;
Let not the day depart,
Without loving more.

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