Classic Poem

My holy day, my calm delight;
My meadow in the fields of life;
My silence, in earth's noisy strife,
Where God is clearest to my sight.

My island, in the rushing stream,
Where birds may sing and lilies blow;
My hill-top, where the mornings glow,
While still in night the valleys dream.

My strength, to face the coming week;
My rest, to count the battles fought;
My quiet, where the jarring thought
Of other days grows still and meek.

My day of love; my day of prayer;
My day of pure and perfect peace;
My day where all the tumults cease,
And souls rise to serener air.