I sent you of late a floral token, as proof to you of vows unbroken: hoping it might your cold heart melt; this token of a love heartfelt. You say me that you love me fine: yet cruel lady you'll not be mine; while I must bide until Tomorrow; all my days are filled with sorrow. In Tomorrow lie Croesus' treasures: a glitter masking this day's pleasures; a smiling harlot clad in bright array; her smile makes wan this present day. Yearn not for Tomorrow's siren lure: live in this day, now dawning... Sign in to see full entry.