Rise and Begin

I rise and begin the day at morn,
Passing through each act as if it were the first:
And soon the evening on the day is borne.

The tracks in the road of life are timeworn;
It is a path that for all its length is cursed -
But still I begin the day at morn.

Is not my life naught but each moment torn
Out of the Book of Being, something violent,
Until the evening on the day is borne?

Often I think it wise to weep and mourn
For the relentless, constant and endless thirst
That begins every day at morn.

O I see that the fortunate are unborn
And never into the fray dispersed
To wander till ev'ning on the day is borne.

But there is no way them to warn
Before they come out headfirst,
To rise and begin the day at morn
Till soon the evening on the day is borne.

Featured image: ‘Sunset,’ by Joseph Mallord William Turner (between 1830 and 1835), image in the public domain.

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