TO-DAY is mine; I hold it fast,
Hold it and use it as I may,
Unmindful of the shadow cast
By that dim thing called Yesterday.
To-morrow hovers just before,
A bright-winged shape, and lures me on,
Till in my zeal to grasp and know her,
I drop To-day,—and she is gone.
The bright wings captured lose their light:
To-morrow weeps, and seems to say,
“I am To-day,—ah, hold me tight!
Erelong I shall be Yesterday.”