And all day long you can hear him say
This day in purple is rolled
And the baby stars of the milky-way
They are cradled in cradles of gold.
Now what is thy secret serene, gray dove,
Of singing so sweetly alway?
“There are many To-morrows, my Love, my Love,
There is only one To-day.”
—Copyright by Harr Wagner Co., San Francisco, and used by kind permission of author and publisher.