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Or do what else I please with what's my own ;
Do you the same--let other men alone.”
The sage, observing well the creature's head,
Perceived his puppy brains were cased in lead;
So, finding reason for the task unfit,
Resolved to point his arguments with wit.
Silent he sat, until the steeds were changed,
Then, while that bustling business was arranged,
He stepped into the bar,—“good hostess, pray,
Let me have two tallow candles,-nay,
Don't look surprised; I am in earnest quite,
And one of them be kind enough to light.”
" To light the candle, sir ! you surely joke !"
“Oh, no, I don't, I want some candle smoke."
The obedient dame uplifted hands and eyes,
And, to the other passengers' surprise,
Brought him the lighted candle safe to hand,
And from the sage received her due demand.
The gentle lady scarce knew what to think,
Until she saw one eye give half a wink,
Which spoke of some sly joke he had in head,
So quite demure she sat, and nothing said.
The burning candle left an inch of wick;
Then lighted he the other-what a trick !
Soon as the mantling flame was fixʼd and true,
The elder burning candle out he blew,
To windward of his neighbour. My good stars !
He look'd as fierce as cruel-minded Mars.
O what a fume saluted his poor nose !
Out broke his wrath,—“Sir, what d’ye mean by this ?":
The sly old man said, “Pray, sir, what 's amiss ?
I have paid my fare, then let me smoke, I say;
The candle's mine, mind your own business, pray !”
The lady laughed — who could a laugh restrain ?
The beau rebuk’d, with all his might and main,
Threw his cigar into the turnpike mud,
Where it lay hissing in the puddly flood.
He laugh'd and blush'd, own'd the retort was due,
And kept good fellowship the journey through.
Ye who to teaching leaden heads aspire
Charge your bright arguments with smoke and fire,
Where art thou, beloved To-morrow ?
Whom young and old, and strong and weak,
Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,
Thy sweet smiles we ever seek :-
In thy place-ahwell-a-day !
We find the thing we fled-To-day.
Our yesterday's to-morrow now is gone,
And still a new to-morrow does come on,
We by to-morrows draw out all our store,
Till the exhausted well can yield no more.
He who takes the best care of to-day has the least fear of to-morrow.
Enjoy yourself to-day ; do not grieve for to-morrow.
Do to-day what you think of doing to-morrow, and do now what you mean to do to-day ; for death does n care to see whether or not a certain man has
has done his mission.
Do not depend on to-morrow. If you are not propared to-day, how will you be prepared to-morrow ! So do immediately what you ought towards progress. To
morrow is an uncertain day, and how do you know that you shall be alive to-morrow?
Let not the work of to-day be put off till to-morrow.
-SIR R. L'ESTRANGE.
Never leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day,
Yesterday is gone, and to-morrow (i, e. the day of judgment) is still in the bud (i. e. has not come to existence). Consider to-day a (fit) opportunity between this and that. . (Meaning-make the most of the present that lies between the Past and the Future ).
-“ ODES OF SÂDI.
Don't tell me of to-morrow :
Give me the man who'll say,
That when a good deed's to be done
“Let's do the deed to-day.'
We may all command the present,
If we act and never wait ;
But repentance is the phantom
Of a past that comes too late.
Don't tell me of to-morrow ;
There is much to do to-day,
That can never be accomplished
If we throw the hours away.
Every moment has its duty,
Who the future can foretell?
. Translated by D. F. Mulla.
Then why put off till to-morrow,
What to-day can do as well?
Don't tell me of to-morrow;
If we look upon the past,
How much that we have left to do,
We cannot do at last;
To-day it is the only time,
For all on this frail earth;
It takes an age to form a life
A moment gives it birth.
In the down-hill of life, when I find I'm declining,
May my fate no less fortunate be
Than a snug elbow-chair will afford for reclining,
And a cot that overlooks the wild sea ;
With an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn,
While I carol away idle sorrow, ,
And blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn,
Look forward with hope for to-morrow.
With a porch at my door, both for shelter and
shade too, As the sunshine or rain may prevail; And a small spot of ground for the use of the
With a barn for the use of the flail :
A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game,
And a purse when a friend wants to borrow;
I'll envy no Nabob his riches or fame,
Or what honours may wait him To-morrow.
From the bleak northern blast may my cot be com
pletely Secured by a neighbouring hill;