Today

There is never a sigh for the years gone by,

    And never a fear of tomorrow;

There’s never a tear for the yesteryear,

    There’s never a moment to borrow

The least dismay for the coming day,

    For the day that is here is flying;

O’er wood and dale the shadows trail

    For the day that’s dying, dying.

 

Your hand in mine at the day’s decline,

    Your eyes to mine uplifted,

And face to face with lifting pace,

    Be the clouds banked dark or rifted,

We’ll take our way through the glad today

    With hearts too glad for sighing;

Oh, the time that’s here is glad with cheer,

    Through the day be dying, dying.

 

When the morrow come will our hearts be glum,

    Our souls tug at their tether?

Nay, nay, you’ll be what you are to me,

    And still we’ll walk together;

When the narrow springs from the womb of things

    Your heart shall make replying

To mine the way that it does today,

    Today that is dying, dying.

 

Oh, each yesteryear, it was full of cheer!

    And the skies that arched above you

Reflected shone in your eyes, my own;

    How I loved you! How I love you!

But I can’t recall the past at all,

    With its laughing, loving, sighing,

I’m so happy, dear, in the day that’s here,

    The day that is dying, dying.

 

When the morrow comes and the wild bee hums

    In the old remembered way, dear,

I’ll hold your hand in my own, dear, and

    We’ll love as we love today, dear,

In the present time, while the glories climb,

    And the glad winds go a-flying;

Oh, the day that’s here is our own day, dear,

    Let us love, for ‘tis dying, dying.

 

Lilts O Love Table Of Contents