•  1 min. read  •  grade level: 5
"Tomorrow," he promised his conscience,
"Tomorrow I mean to believe;
Tomorrow I'll think as I ought to;
Tomorrow the Savior receive.
Tomorrow I'll sever the shackles
That hold me from heaven away;"
But ever his conscience repeated
One word and that 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."
Put off your repentance until tomorrow, and you will have a day more to repent of, and a day less to repent in. "Today if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts."