Day By Day

Poem of the Day:

Day by Day
Anonymous

I saw him sitting in the sun, trembling as old men do.
His house was old, his barn was old;
And yet his eyes seemed young.
His eyes had seen three times my years and kept twinkling.

Though they had looked at birth and death and three graves on a hill
Let me sit down with you, I said
And you will make me wise.
Tell me what it is that keeps the joy still shining in your eyes.

Then like an old-time friend, impressively he arose:
"I make the most of all that comes,
and least of all that goes."