Ask him, and he will see
What your To-morrows are;
He'll sing "What is to be"
Beneath each sun and star.
To-morrows! Dread unknown!
What fates may they not bring?
What is the chord? the tone?
The key in which they sing?
I see a thousand throngs,
To-morrows for them wait;
I hear a thousand songs
Intoning each one's fate.
And yours? What will it be?
Hush! song, and let me pray!
God sees it all -- I see
A long, lone, winding way;
And more! no matter what!
Crosses and crowns you wear:
My song may be forgot,
But Thou shalt not, in prayer.
Inevitable
What has been will be,
'Tis the under law of life;
'Tis the song of sky and sea,
To the key of calm and strife.
For guard we as we may,
What is to be will be,
The dark must fold each day --
The shore must gird each sea.
All things are ruled by law;
'Tis only in man's will
You meet a feeble flaw;
But fate is weaving still
The web and woof of life,
With hands that have no hearts,
Thro' calmness and thro' strife,
Despite all human arts.
For fate is master here,
He laughs at human wiles;
He sceptres every tear,
And fetters any smiles.
What is to be will be,
We cannot help ourselves;
The waves ask not the sea
Where lies the shore that shelves.
The law is coldest steel,
We live beneath its sway,
It cares not what we feel,
And so pass night and day.
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