"Tomorrow," he promised his conscience; "Tomorrow I mean to believe; Tomorrow I'll think as I ought to; tomorrow my Savior receive; Tomorrow I'll conquer the habits that hold me from heaven away."
But ever his conscience repeated one word, and one only: "Today."
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow—thus day after day it went on; Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow— till youth like a vision was gone; Till age and his passions had written the message of fate on his brow; And forth from the shadows came Death, with the pitiless syllable, "Now!"