Come Listen, O Love, To The Voice Of The Dove, Come, Hearken And Hear Him Say, There Are Many To-Morrows, My Love, My Love, There Is Only One To-Day. And All Day Long You Can Hear Him Say This Day In Purple Is Rolled, And The Baby Stars Of The Milky-Way They Are Cradled In Cradles Of Gold. Now What Is Thy Secret, Serene Gray Dove, Of Singing So Sweetly Alway? 'There Are Many To-Morrows, My Love, My Love, There Is Only One To-Day.'