Be still my heart and fret not what betides you:
The shout of joy, the song of love or sorrow’s wail.
Each one was made to reach for new tomorrows-,
To drink the cup of woe and strive to find
The holy grail.
There is no day so dark but what the morrow
Will bring new light and strength to lift the weary soul.
Shadows lengthen at beck’ning hands of sorrow
As faith and love and hope unite to make
The broken whole.
Be still my heart, and calm your troubled beatings;
Whispers of wind against the broken window sash.
Each spoken word in anger is like the waves
That rant and rave and vent their wrath in one
Wild seething crash.
Curb each embittered word. Stem flowing anger;
Search deep for where there’s froth you’ll find misgivings lie.
Sweet is the joy which comes with understanding,
For noontide comes to soon and even, in
Her haste slips by.
The night is here and life too short, is wasted.
Accomplishments are few and time has flown away.
Be still my heart; wait not for new tomorrows-,
Just live your best, in this your world, the hours
You have today.
– Circa 1940