THIS IS ANOTHER DAY

  I AM mine own priest, and I shrive myself
  Of all my wasted yesterdays. Though sin
  And sloth and foolishness, and all ill weeds
  Of error, evil, and neglect grow rank
  And ugly there, I dare forgive myself
  That error, sin, and sloth and foolishness.
  God knows that yesterday I played the fool;
  God knows that yesterday I played the knave;
  But shall I therefore cloud this new dawn o'er
  With fog of futile sighs and vain regrets?