Classic Poem

Let me be thankful for the flaming day,
The noon that burns to splendor, when I hear
The feet of Beauty passing on her way,
The voice of Beauty as she trembles near,
Sweet silvery wraith, my hope and my despair!
Man's path is but a pilgrimage of need
Seeking the ultimate star, the hidden lair,
And if he falters in his ruthless greed
Let him remember life, the miracle —
The rose of evening faint against the sky,
The slow moon's glory risen in the dell,
First love, and children's laughter floating by,
The sweep of sudden wind among the trees —
Let me be thankful, Lord, for all of these.