Procrastinations

If Fortune with a smiling face

Strew roses on our way,

When shall we stoop to pick them up?

To-day, my love, to-day.

But should she frown with face of care,

And talk of coming sorrow,

When shall we grieve, if grieve we must?

To-morrow, love, to-morrow.

If those who've wrong'd us own their faults,

And kindly pity pray,

When shall we listen and forgive?

To-day, my love, to-day.

But, if stern Justice urge rebuke,

And warmth from Memory borrow,

When shall we chide -- if chide we dare?

To-morrow, love, to-morrow.

If those to whom we owe a debt

Are harmed unless we pay,

When shall we struggle to be just?

To-day, my love, to-day.

But if our debtor fail our hope

And plead his ruin thorough,

When shall we weigh his breach of faith?

To-morrow, love, to-morrow.

If Love, estranged, should once again

Her genial smile display,

When shall we kiss her proffered lips?

To-day, my love, to-day.

But, if she would indulge regret,

Or dwell with bygone sorrow,

When shall we weep -- if weep we must?

To-morrow, love, to-morrow.

For virtuous acts and harmless joys

The minutes will not stay;

We've always time to welcome them,

To-day, my love, to-day.

But care, resentment, angry words,

And unavailing sorrow,

Come far too soon, if they appear

To-morrow, love, to-morrow.