Two long had Lov'd, and now the Nymph desir'd, <br />The Cloak of Wedlock, as the Case requir'd; <br />Urg'd that, the Day he wrought her to this Sorrow, <br />He Vow'd, that he wou'd marry her To-Morrow. <br />Agen he Swears, to shun the present Storm, <br />That he, To-Morrow, will that Vow perform. <br />The Morrows in their due Successions came; <br />Impatient still on Each, the pregnant Dame <br />Urg'd him to keep his Word, and still he swore the same. <br />When tir'd at length, and meaning no Redress, <br />But yet the Lye not caring to confess, <br />He for his Oath this Salvo chose to borrow, <br />That he was Free, since there was no To-Morrow; <br />For when it comes in Place to be employ'd, <br />'Tis then To-Day; To-Morrow's ne'er enjoy'd. <br /> <br />The Tale's a Jest, the Moral is a Truth; <br />To-Morrow and To-Morrow, cheat our Youth: <br />In riper Age, To-Morrow still we cry, <br />Not thinking, that the present Day we Dye; <br />Unpractis'd all the Good we had Design'd; <br />There's No To-Morrow to a Willing Mind.<br /><br />Countess Winchilsea Anne Finch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-s-no-to-morrow/
