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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.
A shining isle in a stormy sea,
We seek it ever with smiles and sighs;
To-day is read more
A shining isle in a stormy sea,
We seek it ever with smiles and sighs;
To-day is sad. In the bland To-be,
Serene and lovely To-morrow lies.
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.
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.]
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He, who can call to-day his own:
He who, secure read more
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He, who can call to-day his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have liv'd today.
There's a fount about to stream,
There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to read more
There's a fount about to stream,
There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,
There's a flower about to blow;
There's a midnight blackness changing
Into gray;
Men of thought and men of action,
Clear the way.
Leuconoe, close the book of fate,
For troubles are in store,
. . . .
read more
Leuconoe, close the book of fate,
For troubles are in store,
. . . .
Live today, tomorrow is not.
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise,
To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise;
Or should to-morrow read more
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise,
To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise;
Or should to-morrow chance to cheer thy sight
With her enlivening and unlook'd for light,
How grateful will appear her dawning rays!
As favours unexpected doubly please.
To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what fair country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis read more
To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what fair country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
'Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear
'Twill be both very old and very dear.
"To-morrow I will live," the fool does say:
To-day itself's too late;--the wise lived yesterday.