There's nothing so sad as the sadness that comes
when we think of the chance we've lost -
The big opportunities we have let slide -
and discovered too late, to our cost.
We might have done this, and we might have done that-
idle words, for they haven't the power,
to bring back again opportunities lost -
or restore to us one little hour. . .
Yes, it's useless to think of the things that we've missed;
there is only one thing left to do -
Make the most of each moment and take what it gives -
disappointment and happiness too.
And if Fate knocks you down with a shattering blow -
it may be your big chance in disguise -
If you stand up and meet it with courage and faith,
looking onward with bright, fearless eyes . . .
Poet: John G. Saxe
I wish - that friends were always true,
And motives always pure;
I wish the good were not so few,
I wish the bad were fewer;
I wish that parsons ne'er forgot
To heed their pious teaching;
I wish that practising was not
So different from preaching!
Things Left Undone
Poet: Margaret E. Sangster
It isn't the thing you do,
It's the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you a bitter heartache
At the setting of the sun.
The stone you might have lifted
Out of a brother's way.
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were too hurried to say,
The loving touch of the hand.
The gentle and winsome tone
For which you had no time nor thought,
With troubles enough of your own.
The Moments You Spend
Poet: Everett W. Hill
One task at a time without worry or fear;
One day at a time though the morrow draws near;
One deed well accomplished suffices the day;
Start not many missions, take time out to play.
You can't borrow sunlight from night's open door;
One task and one day is enough to explore.
Make every hour count in the moments you spend —
Tomorrow's a stranger; Today is a, friend.
Two And One
Two ears and only one mouth have you;
The reason, I think, is clear:
It teaches, my child, that it will not do
To talk about all you hear.
Two eyes and only one mouth have you;
The reason of this must be,
That you should learn that it will not do
To talk about all you see.
Two hands and only one mouth have you;
And it is worth while repeating:
The two are for work you will have to do —
The one is enough for eating.
We are but minutes — little things,
Each one furnished with sixty wings,
With which we fly on our unseen track,
And not a minute ever comes back.
We are but minutes — yet each one bears
A little burden of joys and cares.
Patiently take the minutes of pain —
The worst of minutes cannot remain.
We are but minutes — when we bring
A few of the drops from pleasure's spring,
Taste their sweetness while we stay —
It takes but a minute to fly away.
We are but minutes — use us well,
For how we are used we must one day tell;
Who uses minutes has hours to use —
Who loses minutes whole years must lose.
I did pretty well with that trouble I had,
That trouble that frightened me so:
Now it's over I've a right to feel glad
That I didn't give in to a blow.
For a while it appeared that I couldn't succeed,
I was tempted to give up the fight.
But now that it's over I'm happy indeed
To think that I came out all right.
I nearly gave up when the thing looked so bad,
I had almost decided to quit:
I'm surprised at myself at the courage I had,
And I'm glad that I had so much grit.
When the next trouble comes I shall stand up and fight
And meet it the best I can;
I've reached the conclusion that trouble's all right,
It brings out the stuff in a man.