Broken every promise plighted--
All is darksome--all is dreary.
Every new-born hope is blighted!
Sad and sorry--weak and weary
Death the Friend or Death the Foe,
Shall I call upon thee? No!
I will go on living, though
Sad and sorry--weak and weary!

No, no! Let the bygone go by!
No good ever came of repining:
If to-day there are clouds o'er the sky,
To-morrow the sun may be shining!
To-morrow, be kind,
To-morrow, to me!
With loyalty blind
I curtsey to thee!
To-day is a day of illusion and sorrow,
So viva To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morrow!
God save you, To-morrow!
Your servant, To-morrow!
God save you, To-morrow, To-morrow, To-morro