Broken every promise plighted--

All is darksome--all is dreary.

Every new-born hope is blighted!

Sad and sorry--weak and weary

Death the Friend or Death the Foe,

Shall I call upon thee? No!

I will go on living, though

Sad and sorry--weak and weary!



No, no! Let the bygone go by!

No good ever came of repining:

If to-day there are clouds o'er the sky,

To-morrow the sun may be shining!

To-morrow, be kind,

To-morrow, to me!

With loyalty blind

I curtsey to thee!

To-day is a day of illusion and sorrow,

So viva To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morrow!

God save you, To-morrow!

Your servant, To-morrow!

God save you, To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morrow!