A PERFECT day is made of perfect hours,
And perfect hours of perfect moments run.
Of blessings realized and gathered flowers
Between the rising and the set of sun.
Soon they are gone. Swiftly the light that played
On crests of gladness all has passed away.
Dawn turns to Noon. Noon dies to Evening’s shade.
Each at its best helps make a perfect day.
A perfect day is in the reach of all
Who will but fill each moment to the full
With joy, and meaning, thought, and dream, and all
That makes life deep, and rich, and wonderful.
It is within the reach of all who hold
The will to serve, and laugh, and sing, an play
Until the sunset covers all with gold,
And darkness falls upon a perfect day.