“And therefore to-day is thrilling
With a past day's late fulfilling;
And the multitudes are enlisted
In the faith that their fathers resisted,
And, scorning the dream of to-morrow,
Are bringing to pass, as they may,
In the world, for its joy or its sorrow,
The dream that was scorned yesterday.”

“For that mist may break when the sun is high
And this soul forget its sorrow
And the rose ray of the closing day
May promise a brighter morrow.”

“Ah, my Belov'ed fill the Cup that clears
To-day Past Regrets and Future Fears:
To-morrow! — Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.”

“Farewel, thou cruel world! – to morrow
No more thy scorn my heart shall tear: –
The grave will shield the child of sorrow,
And heaven will hear the orphan's prayer.”

“Whate’er there be of Sorrow
I’ll put off till To-morrow,
And when To-morrow comes, why then
’T will be To-day and Joy again.”

“Every joy brings the sorrow of its absence in its wake.”

“The present! it sinketh with sorrow and care,
That but for the future, it never could bear;
We dwell in its shadow, we see by its light,
And to-day trusts to-morrow, it then will be bright.”

“The nurse is the night
To wake to, to die in: and the day I live,
The world and its life are her dreams.”

“The nurse is the night
To wake to, to die in: and the day I live,
The world and its life are her dreams.”

“She laughed with thrilling scorn. "Sophisticated-God, I'm sophisticated!”