Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocott’s Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.
To-morrow
O, fair to-morrow, what our souls have missed
Art thou not keeping for us, somewhere, still?
The buds of promise that have never blown—
The tender lips that we have never kissed—
The song whose high, sweet strain eludes our skill—
The one white pearl that life hath never known.
Julia C. R. Dorr.—Three Days.