Twenty
And I have built the towers of cliffs upon the sands;

The foxgloves and the gorse I planted on my way;

The thyme, the velvet thyme, grew up beneath my hands,

Grew pink beneath my hands.

  So I have built To-day, more precious than a dream;

And I have painted peace upon the sky above;

And I have made immense and misty seas, that seem

More kind to me than life, more fair to me than love—

More beautiful than love.

  And I have built a house—a house upon the brink

Of high and twisted cliffs; the sea’s low singing fills it;

And there my Secret Friend abides, and there I think

I’ll hide my heart away before to-morrow kills it—

A cold to-morrow kills it.

  Yes, I have built To-day, a wall against To-morrow,

So let To-morrow knock—I shall not be afraid,

For none shall give me death, and none shall give me sorrow,

And none shall spoil this darling day that I have made.

No storm shall stir my sea. No night but mine shall shade

This day that I have made.


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