Religion
To-morrow
From The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 1
Religion
My TO-MORROW is but a flitting
Fancy of the brain;
God's TO-MORROW an angel sitting,
Ready for joy or pain.
My TO-MORROW has no soul,
Dead as yesterdays;
God's--a brimming silver bowl
Of life that gleams and plays.
My TO-MORROW, I mock you away!
Shadowless nothing, thou!
God's TO-MORROW, come, dear day,
For God is in thee now.
Cite this poem
MLA
MacDonald, George. “To-morrow.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/macdonald/111/.
Chicago
MacDonald, George. “To-morrow.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/macdonald/111/.
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