Yesterday is but a dream, tomorrow but a vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, read more

Yesterday is but a dream, tomorrow but a vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow | a vision of hope. Look well, therefore, to this day.

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 is, ah, whose?

To-morrow is, ah, whose?

You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you've collected a lot of empty yesterdays.

You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you've collected a lot of empty yesterdays.

Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives read more

Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday.

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!
read more

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!

In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining,
May my lot no less fortunate be
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In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining,
May my lot no less fortunate be
Than a snug elbow-chair can afford for reclining,
And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea;
With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn,
While I carol away idle sorrow,
And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn,
Look forward with hope for to-morrow.

Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,
And through the opening door that time unlocks
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Far off I hear the crowing of the cocks,
And through the opening door that time unlocks
Feel the fresh breathing of To-morrow creep.