Classic Poem

Lo! it is day; the land lies warm in light;
The river ripples dreamily along
Thro' golden meadows, listening the song
Of happy birds that, with unweary flight,
Dart o'er a sky immaculately bright:
Thine arm is sinewy, thy heart is strong,
Thy life is affluent and free from wrong,
Why wish to see beyond that mist-clad height?

Because the day will not for ever last,
Nor will our winding way for ever lie
Thro' sunny pasturage—because the sky
May momently with clouds be overcast—
Because when all these leas and lands are past,
'Mong the mists yonder 'tis our doom to die.