I will not look for storms when skies are glowing,
With hues of summer sunsets painted o'er;
When all my tides of life are softly flowing,
I will not listen for the breaker's roar.

I will not search the future for its sorrows,
Nor peer ahead for lions in the way,
I will not weep o'er possible to-morrows—
Sufficient is the evil of to-day.