Bygones

Neither yesterday with her episodes sad, Nor dreamy tomorrow in lively linen clad, Will ever beat the present moment's feel Of wars won by sheer grit and avid steel. You’re an irredeemable dunce to look back And rue or weep over yesterday's lost goal, Since you’ll for stale tears’ veils fail to see That today’s wins far dim all old hours’ gall. None laughs or cries over buried pain, Save when new rubs old wound relive; And true lovers instinctively kiss or hug To still fresh stirs by rogue senses five. So where's yester-woe's stale sting In our current moment's first-felt tic? Isn’t kind Nature's omniscient design Force enough to ease fate’s icy kick? Sing me yesterday’s dirges no more, For today's joys must steal the show!