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."