YESTERDAYS.
Reading edition
For all the buried yesterdays I have not one regret; I love them not, I mourn them not, I would them all forget. Of all the dead, dead yesterdays Which were so dearly bought, I care not to remember one, They were with misery fraught, They held no joy, they held no peace, Each day had some deep pain; So I would never call them back; Each day seemed lived in vain. Today I live, today I love, The yesterdays are dead. I wot not of the passing days Though by them I am led. Today is mine with all it holds, I’ll do the best I know. The future is a closed up book, And may be filled with woe.