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1892–1933

THE SECRET DAY

Stella Benson

My yesterday has gone, has gone and left me tired, And now to-morrow comes and beats upon the door; So I have built To-day, the day that I desired, Lest joy come not again, lest peace return no more,

Lest comfort come no more. So I have built To-day, a proud and perfect day, 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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THE SECRET DAY · Stella Benson · Poetry Cove