Leuconoe, close the book of fate,
For troubles are in store,
. . . .
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Leuconoe, close the book of fate,
For troubles are in store,
. . . .
Live today, tomorrow is not.

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with read more

To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me: "Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with the rest."
And I make answer: "I am satisfied;
I dare not ask; I know not what is best;
God hath already said what shall betide."

To-morrow will give some food for thought.
[Lat., Aliquod crastinus dies ad cogitandum dabit.]

To-morrow will give some food for thought.
[Lat., Aliquod crastinus dies ad cogitandum dabit.]

How oft my guardian angel gently cried,
"Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see
How read more

How oft my guardian angel gently cried,
"Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see
How he persists to knock and wait for thee!"
And, O! how often to that voice of sorrow,
"To-morrow we will open," I replied,
And when the morrow came I answered still, "To-morrow."

Oh! to be wafted away
From this black Aceldama of sorrow,
Where the dust of an earthy read more

Oh! to be wafted away
From this black Aceldama of sorrow,
Where the dust of an earthy to-day
Makes the earth of a dusty to-morrow.

This day was yesterday to-morrow nam'd:
To-morrow shall be yesterday proclaimed:
To-morrow not yet come, not far read more

This day was yesterday to-morrow nam'd:
To-morrow shall be yesterday proclaimed:
To-morrow not yet come, not far away,
What shall to-morrow then be call'd? To-day.

Dreaming of a to-morrow, which to-morrow
Will be as distant then as 'tis to-day.
- Lope read more

Dreaming of a to-morrow, which to-morrow
Will be as distant then as 'tis to-day.
- Lope Felix de Vega Carpio ("Tome Burguillos"),

To-morrow, didst thou say?
Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow!
Go to--I will not hear it. To-morrow!
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To-morrow, didst thou say?
Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow!
Go to--I will not hear it. To-morrow!
'Tis a sharper--who stakes his penury
Against thy plenty--takes thy ready cash,
And pays thee naught but wishes, hopes, and promises,
The currency of idiots--injurious bankrupt,
That gulls the easy creditor!

Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.

Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.