My Friend, Let's Not Think Of Tomorrow,

Oh! My Beloved! Fill The Cup, That Clears To-day Of Past Regrets And Future Fears.

But Helpless Pieces Of The Game He Plays Upon This Checker-board Of Nights And Days; Hither And Thither Moves, And Checks, And Slays, And One By One Back In The Closet Lays.

Drink! For You Know Not When You Came, Nor Why; Drink! For You Know Not Why You Go, Nor Where.

The Stars Are Setting And The Caravan Starts For The Dawn Of Nothing-oh, Make Haste!

To-day Is Thine To Spend, But Not To-morrow; Counting On Morrows Breedeth Bankrupt Sorrow: O Squander Not This Breath That Heaven Hath Lent Thee; Make Not Too Sure Another Breath To Borrow.