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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.
Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day.
Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do 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"),
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.
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.]
Some say "to-morrow" never comes,
A saying oft thought right;
But if to-morrow never came,
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Some say "to-morrow" never comes,
A saying oft thought right;
But if to-morrow never came,
No end were of "to-night."
The fact is this, time flies so fast,
That e'er we've time to say
"To-morrow's come," presto! behold!
"To-morrow" proves "To-day."
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!
The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow.
The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow.
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."