Does the sweet morning rise, Bride-like, from sleep, When their first revelries Bird and bee keep, Singing out joyously In the green tree ? Then, whe… - Letitia Elizabeth Landon

The shade fell darker from the clustering vine,
Whose green boughs twined the lattice like a wreath ;
The lark had ceased the musical glad laugh
With which he hails the morning; note by note
The matin song had died upon the wind;
The dew which hung upon the cypresses
Had turned to sunshine on the waving leaves;—

TO-MORROW, to-morrow, thou loveliest May,
To-morrow will rise up thy first-born day;
Bride of the summer, child of the spring,
To-morrow the year will its favourite bring:

We differ widely from each other ; do we not, as circumstances change around us, moulding us like slaves to their will — do we not differ yet more from ourselves ?