Poems (Proctor)/The Perfect Day
THE PERFECT DAY.
The blast has swept the clouds away, The gloom, the mist, the rain;Serene and blue is all the skySave for a white cloud floating high,A lone, celestial argosy That dares the azure main;And, light as wafts of Eden blow,The zephyrs wander to and fro.
What do I care that yester-night The wind was loud and chill?Now earth is lapt in sunny calm;The woods, the fields, exhale their balm;And breeze and brook and bird a psalm Sing sweet, by vale and hill;—What do I care that skies were cold?To-day all heaven is flushed with gold.
O when the blast of death has blown The clouds of time away,So may the shadows of our years—The gloom of doubts and griefs and fearsAnd dark regrets and bitter tears— Fade in God's perfect day!And seem as slight and brief and vainAs yester-evening's mist and rain.