Far worse than nightmares are the
fears that crowd upon us in the day.
A nightmare swiftly disappears when
sleep has softly slipped away; when
we awake we joke a bit—that is, if we
remember it! But " Daymares " press
upon the soul and poison every breath
of air; of strength and courage they
take toll and in their train come cark
and care. They fetter and they paralyse
—these " Daymares " with their fear-
veiled eyes. They are the troubles yet
to come ; the worries still quite out of
sight; the sense of failure, clammy, dumb,
that turns the sunniest day to night.
These " Daymares " plant one's fruitful
years with stark despair and barren
fears. Oh, give us courage for the fray
when " Daymares " rise on every side.
There is no foe so hard to slay as Fear
by worry magnified; but if this victory
be won, then can we say, " Brave soul !
Well done ! "
Notes
Taken from "Mingled Yarn" by Wilhelmina Stitch (Methuen 1943)
The pieces were each presented as a single block of fully justified text. One title per page.
The reader was expected to UN-mingle her lines.
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