PROCRASTINATION.

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 fault, 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.