Counting each day a little life,
Birth and death complete;
Cloister it from care and strife
Keep it sane and sweet.
Eager eyes greet the morn,
Exultant as a young girl or boy,
Feelin like a newly born
To wonder, to joy.
When the sunset splendours wane
Ripe for you or I,
Knowing that we will will live again,
Exultantly all of us die.
O that all Life were but a Day
Sunny and sweet and sane!
And that at Even one might say:
"I sleep to wake again."
