If Fortune with a smiling face 
Strew roses on our way, 
When shall we stoop to pick them up? 
To-day, my love, to-day.
But should she frown with face of care, 
And talk of coming sorrow, 
When shall we grieve, if grieve we must? 
To-morrow, love, to-morrow. 

If those who've wrong'd us own their faults, 
And kindly pity pray, 
When shall we listen and forgive? 
To-day, my love, to-day. 
But, if stern Justice urge rebuke, 
And warmth from Memory borrow, 
When shall we chide  --  if chide we dare?  
To-morrow, love, to-morrow. 

If those to whom we owe a debt 
Are harmed unless we pay, 
When shall we struggle to be just? 
To-day, my love, to-day. 
But if our debtor fail our hope 
And plead his ruin thorough, 
When shall we weigh his breach of faith? 
To-morrow, love, to-morrow.

If Love, estranged, should once again 
Her genial smile display, 
When shall we kiss her proffered lips? 
To-day, my love, to-day. 
But, if she would indulge regret, 
Or dwell with bygone sorrow, 
When shall we weep  --  if weep we must?
To-morrow, love, to-morrow.  

For virtuous acts and harmless joys 
The minutes will not stay; 
We've always time to welcome them, 
To-day, my love, to-day. 
But care, resentment, angry words, 
And unavailing sorrow, 
Come far too soon, if they appear
To-morrow, love, to-morrow.