SLANTING across the fields of snow,
The westering sun makes haste to go;
This day, I know, is tried and sweet,
To-morrow tires my lagging feet.
With many a pause of happy rest
I ’ve journeyed with To-Day, my guest;
His stranger brother cannot be,
Methinks, as goodly company, —
Holding in his mysterious hand
Gifts that will bless or blight my land!
Tarry yet longer, fair To-Day,
That boding step an hour delay.
What songs have told my spirit’s cheer,
What sunlight warmed the glowing year,
What dear companions round me hung,
While life, and love, and hope were young!
These with to-morrow fade apace,
Like bloom from a belovèd face;
And trusting half, yet half with dread,
I question, “ What shall be instead? ”
The sun drops deeper, night is chill;
The oracles I seek are still;
Yon herald star which glitters low
Seems beckoning on the way I go.
To-morrow? Ah, that door doth ope
A new celestial path to Hope.
More than I ask or dream must be,
In God’s to-morrow kept for me!