In the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining,
May my lot no less fortunate be
read more

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.

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."

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."

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.

Remember, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.

Remember, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.

Too late is tomorrow's life; live for today.

Too late is tomorrow's life; live for today.

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.

To-morrow never yet
On any human being rose or set.

To-morrow never yet
On any human being rose or set.