Nonfiction > E.C. Stedman & E.M. Hutchinson, eds. > A Library of American Literature > 1861–1889
Stedman and Hutchinson, comps.  A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes.  1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
A Perfect Day
By Ina Donna Coolbrith (1841–1928)
[From A Perfect Day, and Other Poems. 1881.]

I WILL be glad to-day: the sun
  Smiles all adown the land;
The lilies lean along the way;
  Serene on either hand,
The full-blown roses, red and white,        5
  In perfect beauty stand.
The mourning-dove within the woods
  Forgets, nor longer grieves;
A light wind lifts the bladed corn,
  And ripples the ripe sheaves;        10
High overhead some happy bird
  Sings softly in the leaves.
The butterflies flit by, and bees;
  A peach falls to the ground;
The tinkle of a bell is heard        15
  From some far pasture-mound;
The crickets in the warm, green grass
  Chirp with a softened sound.
The sky looks down upon the sea,
  Blue, with not anywhere        20
The shadow of a passing cloud;
  The sea looks up as fair—
So bright a picture on its breast
  As if it smiled to wear.
A day too glad for laughter—nay,        25
  Too glad for happy tears!
The fair earth seems as in a dream
  Of immemorial years:
Perhaps of that far morn when she
  Sang with her sister spheres.        30
It may be that she holds to-day
  Some sacred Sabbath feast;
It may be that some patient soul
  Has entered to God’s rest,
For whose dear sake He smiles on us,        35
  And all the day is blest.

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