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 | Collected poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson |  |
IX
To-morrow
(Macedonius)
To-morrow? Then your one word left is always now the same:And that's a word that names a day that has no more a name.
To-morrow, I have learned at last, is all you have to give:
230
You will see me in the evening?—And what evening has there been.
Since time began with women, but old age and wrinkled skin?
| Collected poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson | |