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I am serenity.  Though passions beat
     Like mighty billows on my helpless heart,
I know beyond them lies the perfect sweet
     Serenity, which patience can impart.
And when wild tempests in my bosom rage,
“Peace, peace,” I cry, “it is my heritage.”
 
I am good health.  Though fevers rack my brain
     And rude disorders mutilate my strength,
A perfect restoration after pain,
     I know shall be my recompense at length.
And so through grievous day and sleepless night,
“Health, health,” I cry, “it is my own by right.”
 
I am success.  Though hungry, cold, ill-clad,
     I wander for awhile, I smile and say,
“It is but for a time—I shall be glad
     To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way.
God is my father, He has wealth untold,
His wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold.”
Other works by Ella Wheeler Wilcox...



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