Foreboding
By Ellen P. Allerton
I will not look for storms when skies are glowing,
With hues of summer sunsets painted o’er;
When all my tides of life are softly flowing,
I will not listen for the breaker’s roar.
I will not search the future for its sorrows,
Nor peer ahead for lions in the way,
I will not weep o’er possible to-morrows—
Sufficient is the evil of to-day.
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