Poems and Sonnets | ||
65
TO-MORROW.
What shall I say of to-morrow?Judging by life of to-day,
Wreathèd it will be with sorrow
Pale, and with rosier play,
Sweet-smelling hours that borrow
Happiness, soon to decay,
Leaving a burthen to follow,
An arrow of sun-god Apollo,
A gap and a resonant hollow,
In hearts once merry as May.
Poems and Sonnets | ||