“You take peace where you find it,” you would say.
So much comes back to me of that one day —
Our little girl, worn out from hours of play,
Had made a pillow from a bit of tree;
The dirty beach was bare, except us three,
And life was all that any life could be.
“A storm is coming on,” I said, for gray
And threatening clouds were heading in our way.
The soon-heard thunder didn’t fears allay,
So I picked up our daughter, carefully,
And walked back to our car, there, by the sea,
As she slept on, relaxed, and worry-free.
You take peace where you find it. – That is true:
But I lost peace, and her, when I lost