Explore "Songs" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To-morrow and to-morrow -- shall there be / Perchance a morrow when I may not see / Your face beside me any more? Ah, no! / My love, my love, I cannot let you go.
Like sun in Egypt, ever kind and fair, / My heart must wake at dawn and know you there -- / No dread of day which holds a weeping rain, / No dread of chilly love and bitter pain, / But ever present, ever wise and true, / To-morrow and to-morrow holding you.