And let us go upon our way forgetting
The joys and sorrows of each yesterday.
Between the swift sun’s rising and its setting
We have no time for useless tears or fretting.
Life is too short.
Life is too short for any bitter feeling;
Time is the best avenger, if we wait.
The years speed by, and on their wings bear healing—
We have no room for anything like hate.
This solemn truth the low mounds seem revealing