Aupa neska polita

A cold cup of tea
Sitting on my desk
Neglect
The essence of the moment
Submerged
Just to forget:
Aupa neska polita
And then
A simple touch,
An ordinary swing
Letting it go, letting it fly

LIFE

Life, believe, is not a dream,
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day:

Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
Oh, why lament its fall?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly.

What though death at times steps in,
And calls our Best away?
What though Sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope a heavy sway?

Yet Hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell,
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.

Manfuly, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell dispair!

--Charlotte Brontë