will be hated. Each follows its kind.

* * * * *

Every day is a fresh beginning,
Every morning is the world made new;
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning,
Here is a beautiful hope for you,
A hope for me and a hope for you.

All the past things are past and over,
The tasks are done, and the tears are shed.
Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover;
Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled,
Are healed with the healing which night has shed.

Every day is a fresh beginning,
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted, and possible pain,
Take heart with the day and begin again.

* * * * *

Each morning is a fresh beginning. We are, as it were, just beginning
life. We have it _entirely_ in our own hands. And when the morning with
its fresh beginning comes, all yesterdays should be yesterdays, with
which we have nothing to do. Sufficient is it to know that the way we
lived our yesterday has determined for us our today. And, again, when
the morning with its fresh beginning comes, all tomorrows should be